


Sail Me to The Stars

by XxxStarcrossedStansxxX



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Additional Warnings Apply, Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Not Suitable/Safe For Work, Oneshot collection, Stancest - Freeform, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-26
Updated: 2019-08-07
Packaged: 2020-05-20 01:08:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 20,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19367164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XxxStarcrossedStansxxX/pseuds/XxxStarcrossedStansxxX
Summary: STANCEST ONESHOT COLLECTION! PLEASE INQUIRE WITHIN FOR MORE DETAILS! SUGGESTIONS ARE BEING TAKEN!





	1. Leave Your Suggestions Here!

**Author's Note:**

> Howdy everyone! Thanks for checking this out! Please defer to the bottom notes for more information!

Set sail with the Stans to arrive at a most wonderful treasure! Welcome to Starla's Stancest Oneshot Collection!

Thanks for coming, we hope you enjoy the cruise!

NO FEELS REFUNDS WILL BE GIVEN!

READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This Oneshot collection will be constructed of my own drabbles AND FROM YOU ALL! Leave suggestions in the comments below on this first chapter AND ONLY on the first chapter. Thank you~
> 
> Rules:  
> 1\. Absolutely NO noncon suggestions.  
> 2\. Don't ask me to write Stan and Ford being abusive towards one another in anyway.  
> 3\. If you ask for a NSFW oneshot, I have the right to deny it. You can of course ask for one. But I may not be comfortable with it. So I can deny anything that personally repulses me. Sometimes your kink is not my kink!


	2. Fall Into My Arms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I promise to catch you this time and every time after.  
> One time Ford wasn't there to catch Stan, and one time he was and did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ATTENTION! 
> 
> Before you read this oneshot know that this diverges from canon. The story begins at Ford's cabin, back before the portal incident, which doesn't happen in this oneshot. This oneshot wasn't intended to be so grandiose, I intended it to only be a few paragraphs long if that. Instead it turned out to be 42 pages in length. Everything hurts and my hands are dying.
> 
> Here's a few things to keep in mind when reading this oneshot: Stan arrived at Ford's much more jaded than in canon. In this oneshot, Stan's backstory is even harsher. Leaving Stan in a state of emotional instability. 
> 
> Trigger warning: This story alludes that Stan has been sexually violated out on the street without his consent. It doesn't go into detail of what happened to him, but it's mentioned. Just thought I'd let you know.
> 
> Also: Things sort of get steamy near the end, no graphic depiction of sex actually happens, but well... just read it for yourself~

* * *

 

* * *

 

* * *

 

Long flowing brown locks, tangled, matted and dreadfully greasy and unkempt. A plethora of nasty green and purple bruises littered upon paled ivory skin, all interwoven with wounds and scars, both old and fresh. Overly pungent dark red coat slathered with stains of unknown origin.  

 

Trembles of the body were from either the cold, exhaustion, or the aura of being forsaken to the world’s cruel whimsy. Yet, try as he might he just couldn’t fathom which one exactly.

 

Perhaps it was all three simultaneously that caused the uncontrollable tremors. Tears pricking at the corners of eyes which betrayed the tough and brave person he once knew so well. 

 

The only shimmering in the dullness of the orbs, were that of dejected tears that were in a precarious situation. They were on the brink of spilling over, even though it was obvious that an immense struggle was attempting to keep it all at bay. 

 

Stanford Pines was staring at the mirror image of himself, his twin, his former best friend and lover all in one. Stanley Pines was right before him, clutching his arms harshly with his gloved hands.

 

No doubt the force with which he was exerting on his arms, would cause nails to break the surface of the skin, and allow cherry red liquid to rush to the top. 

 

When Ford, with reckless abandon, fueled by a paranoid filled mental meltdown, had flung the door open and aimed his crossbow, he definitely wasn’t expecting Stan to be in the line of fire. Nor did Ford expect for Stan to promptly drop his duffel bag and to completely clam up.  

 

Not to mention that his behavior was akin to someone who had been used, mistreated and abused several times over. Stan honestly reminded Ford of a soldier returning from war. Living in utter despair, festering in unspoken guilt, shame, all the regrets, self blaming and self loathing.  

 

Ford could read all that and more as he gazed at his little twin brother, who seemed as if he’d teeter and plummet forward at any given second. His stomach churned harshly like it was a boat being rocked by merciless sea waves.

 

He lowered his crossbow hastily, leaning it up against the wall near his door-frame. All he could do was stare at Stan, his body wouldn’t listen to the signals from his brain.  

 

After an extended silence, Ford finally found his voice and broke it, “Stanley. ..?” He questioned cautiously, trying to keep his voice low, fretful if he spoke too loudly he’d spoke his twin. He just appeared so… broken.  

 

As if he’d never be whole again, and this only caused a tightness to form in Ford’s chest. It was a very unwanted sensation, though he wasn’t certain how to be rid of it.

 

Not when Stan was tremoring out in the unforgiving icy chill, seemingly woebegone and so lost that he didn’t know what to do with himself. Other than stand on trembling legs, with his nails burrowing into his arms. 

 

Stanley’s eyes wearily peeked up towards his gaze, and all Ford could notice was that they lacked the light of any semblance of mirth or gratification. It was as though he was a dead husk, standing and staring at him. 

 

It was as though Stanley Pines had died a decade ago. 

 

A shiver coiled up Ford’s spine, hoping that Stan would say something, anything. Alas, all Stan did was stare with sunken, dim and jaded eyes that regarded Ford cautiously. Even though his eyes were dull, the gaze still somehow pierced Ford’s soul. 

 

If there had been any bitterness Ford still felt towards Stan, about the complete and utter betrayal of the bonds of trust years ago, it had been obliterated once Ford had given him a meticulous look over.

 

Ford held his breath, his heart pounding and his pulse fluttering, and he took a few gradual steps forward. He rose up an unsteady hand and lightly let it come to rest on Stan’s shoulder.  

 

“What’s… what’s wrong? Are you… are you alright?” He inwardly flinched at his inquiry, of course Stanley wasn’t alright. He was falling apart at the seams and trembling like the last leaf of a tree desperate holding on, trying not to be spirited away by the harsh gale of the oncoming winter. 

 

The silence on Stan’s part stretched on, he didn’t even react to Ford’s hand resting upon his shoulder. Instead he lowered his head, hunch in over as if he was undeserving of his time or attention. It didn’t take a genius to realize Stan’s spirit was in utter ruin.  

 

Ford didn’t even require the use of their twinstinct to come to the conclusion that Stan was on the verge of surrendering himself to despair. Ford could feel everything Stan was experiencing, and it was absolute torture.  

 

Yet, even if he wasn’t able to feel what his twin was feeling, he knew that he still would have realized JUST how agonized Stan felt. All Ford needed to know was presented to him, just by gazing upon Stan and witnessing his physical features and body language. 

 

“Stanley, please… tell me what’s wrong I won’t… I won’t be able to help you if…” Ford’s words failed him as his strained voice trailed off. It didn’t take him long to connect the dots that the likelihood of Stan speaking to him was slim to none. Stan proved him right by it being none, for he spoke nary a word, all he did was just stand there. As if speaking would speed up the process of him falling apart. 

 

Ford’s heart began to ache as he stared at his forlorn twin, unsure of what he should do. Approximately a minute passed before Ford lightly gave Stan’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. 

 

“Stanley you’re going to catch your death out here. Won’t you… won’t you at least come in? So, I can get you warm…please?” 

 

Stan once again didn’t speak, nor did he move. 

 

“Please.” Ford, at a loss of how he could convince Stan to move, pleaded to him. He had to convince Stan to move, otherwise he’d freeze to death outside. Also it wasn’t as if Ford had any chance of moving him forcefully, Stan was still as hefty as he remembered him, possibly even more so. It would be fruitless to try and move him, it would be akin to trying to push a broken-down car through drying cement. 

 

“Please.” He whispered, his voice shaking near the end of his plea. A ball of sorrow forming inside of his esophagus. Ford had a sneaking suspicion he was on the verge of mirroring Stan. As in his eyes were about to shimmer with unshed tears, and his body was going to start tremoring as he tried to hold himself together. 

 

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Stan’s hands reached up and he placed them around Ford’s. He gave him a curt nod. Ford’s heart skipped a beat, a tiny flickering ember of hope burned within him.  

 

Ford carefully positioned himself in such a manner that Stan could lean upon him for support. As soon as Stan leaned against his side, he placed an arm around him and held his hands, to secure him. 

 

Ford helped Stan sluggishly move across the wood of the cabin floor, and over to the couch. He carefully lowered Stan down into a sit on the couch. “Wait here.” Ford said, his voice hushed to a murmur, but when he went to pull away, he was stopped in place. 

 

Stan’s hands had reached out, and clutched Ford’s hands, keeping him there, his grip was so tight that it conveyed to Ford that Stan was terrified. It was as though Stan believed that if he let go of Ford, he’d vanish from his life again, leaving him all alone in his anguish. His tormented eyes gazed at him, with a silent plea for him to stay, that he needed him, and that he’d surely fracture without him by his side. 

 

“Hey now,” Ford knelt down while maneuvering his hands to now grasp Stan’s, “it will be alright. I won’t go far, I’m only getting your bag. It’s still outside, I’ll be back…okay?” Though as he went to move again, a low whimper sounded off in Stan’s throat. 

 

He shook his head rapidly and squeezed his eyes tightly shut, his tremoring becoming even more pronounced. He obviously didn’t want Ford to leave his side, but Ford had to go collect his bag of belongings that had been left on the porch. 

 

Ford’s hands left Stan’s, and he reached up and he wiped a few stray tears away from Stan’s cheeks with one hand, and using the other hand, he softly brushed it as best he could through Stan’s tangled mullet.  

 

“It’s alright…it’s alright, I’ll be back, you’re okay.” He did his damndest to sound convincing, hoping Stan would allow him leave for a moment to go gather the bag. 

 

Stan’s hands reached up, trembling as if any movement at all was causing him an immense amount of pain. He leaned forward to press his forehead against Ford’s, while he clutched his hands upon his shoulders.  

 

No words came from him, only muted whimpers and strangled whines. The sight brought Ford’s memories back to another time, back when they were just young lads, around fifteen years of age.  

 

It had been when Stan had a night terror, though he never did end up telling Ford what the night terror had been about. Ford recalled every intricate detail, down to even the date and time of this particular memory, courtesy of his photographic memory. 

* * *

* * *

 

* * *

Stan had woken up sobbing, and trembling so fiercely that it had shook the entire bunk bed. Ford had woken up in a panic because he thought that there was an earthquake, though not likely but still not impossible, happening.  

 

Only to realize it was Stan, having a utter meltdown, he had climbed down to the bottom bunk and lifted himself up and onto the mattress to settle down in front of Stan. He reached out and wrapped his arms around him, pressing their foreheads together.  

 

It had always been a gesture designed to comfort the both of them. Ford stayed on the bottom bunk for the better half of that night, gently caressing one hand against Stan’s back, all while whispering soothing assurances. 

* * *

 

* * *

 

* * *

 The memory faded away, as more low whimpers and whines brought Ford back to the present. 

 

“It’s alright, it’s alright…” Ford repeated softly, “I don’t know… I don’t know what’s… happened, but you’ll be okay.” Ford hadn’t a clue what exactly was wrong with his twin, but he hoped beyond hope that what he was telling Stan wasn’t going to turn out to be an unintentional lie. 

 

It was then Ford decided to take a shot in the dark, as he pulled away ever so slightly, much to Stan’s dismay, clearly evident by the miserable whimper that rumbled out from his vocals. “Shhhh…” Ford hushed, as he took his twin’s cheeks into his palms. He pressed his lips against Stan’s forehead, which in turn caused his twin to shudder, and give out a shaky breath, of what Ford could only assume to be surprise. 

 

Ford’s lips traversed down, peppering light kisses all across his face. Once his lips found Stan’s cheeks,  he promptly and gently kissed away his tears. “Shhhh…” Stan’s trembles and whimpers began to settle, though they didn’t fully cease. Yet, thankfully he seemed to be calmed down just enough that Ford would be able to go retrieve his bag. 

 

“I’ll be right back, okay?” Ford pulled back, to lock his gaze with Stan’s, not knowing if he’d actually soothed Stan enough. He may seem calmer, but Ford felt as if all that could change within a moment’s notice. However, albeit begrudgingly, Stan released his grip on Ford’s shoulders and wrapped his arms around himself, giving Ford a shaky nod. His gaze fell to the floor, and he stared so intently at the patterns in the wooden planks, as though they held the key to cure his suffering.

 

After Ford brought Stan’s bag in, he dusted off all the snow that had accumulated upon it, and set it down next to the couch. Then he went over to Stan to give him more soothing words of assurance, before he left him there to enter the kitchen.  

* * *

 

* * *

 

* * *

Within the kitchen Ford did the best with what he had at his disposal. In the end he had whipped up a large hot coco with tiny marshmallows in them, Stan absolutely loved tiny marshmallows in his coco.  

 

As for meal wise, Ford prepared a dish that was designed to be appropriate for a healthy diet. Ford knew without a doubt in his mind, Stan loved this dish.  It was one of his favorites, ever since they were kids. In fact, it was one of the few healthy meals he would indulge in. 

 

It had taken him about an hour and a half to finish preparing this meal; and he was shocked that he hadn’t burned it. Now Ford wasn’t a five-star chef or anything of the sort, in fact most food that he did prepare caught fire some way or the other. The curse seemed to defy all logical means as well, even food that hardly had to be cooked in any shape or form caught ablaze.  

 

He was never able to unravel the mystery as to why it happened. It drove him up a wall in his teens with his attempts to figure it out. But thankfully for him, Stan was there to keep him grounded and soon convinced Ford that sometimes some mysteries were better left unsolved.  

 

Somehow, he’d managed to not set this food on fire, and that was a miracle in of itself. A bitter and ironic laugh shook his vocal cords, oh if only he had Stan here to remind him that sometimes one should leave well enough alone, before he went and made a deal with a devil.  

 

Just what kind of disaster had Ford gotten himself into this time? Not only did he have to fret over his twin’s delicate situation, but he also had to be wary of Bill and what might happen now that Ford’s plans had been entirely derailed.  

 

He had meant to send Stan away, to bury the folly he’d created. He had hoped to hand off his Journal to Stan, and then instruct him to hide it away on the edge of the Earth, where none could ever find it. In a sense it was also his way of getting Stan as far away as possible.  

 

Not because he hated Stan, that couldn’t be more removed from the truth, in fact in light of recent events, Ford realized he still loved him so very much, perhaps even more now than ever before. Before all this he knew he still loved Stan as a brother, and had wanted him to get away. So, he’d be safe from whatever Bill might do when he discovered Ford had all the Journals hidden.  

 

But it wasn’t until Stan had arrived broken at his doorstep that he rediscovered his honest feelings for him. He was still deeply and truly in love with Stan. A groan left him as he understood all at once, that now Stan was here, he wouldn’t be able to bear sending him away. 

 

He just couldn’t turn him away, not when he had his entire heart shakes to his own. Stan had always had Ford’s heart, as now that Ford could once again feel something other than the numbness, the paralyzing paranoia and emptiness, he’d be damned if he went back to it. 

 

He was sick and tired of feeling so hopeless, and even though Stan was broken, and probably held no hope of his own, yet somehow, he gave Ford hope. Hope that he didn’t even suspect was still there, buries underneath the crushing weight of the horrors he about unleashed upon the entire Universe. Stan was just so amazing… no not amazing, he was wonderful, just absolutely downright wonderful. He had given Ford hope again, without even being the slightest bit aware of it.  

 

Ford couldn’t believe he’d been such a fool; he should never have let Stan drive away all those years ago. Now he would give anything to change it, but he couldn’t do so and the knowledge he couldn’t made his heart ache horribly.

 

If only… 

 

Ford shook his head, that was enough self-deprecating for now, he had left Stan alone for far too long. It was time he returned to him. Without wasting a single second more, Ford placed the coco and bowl on the table and went to collect Stan. 

* * *

 

* * *

 

* * *

Stan was still right where he left him, staring down at the planks of wood.

 

“Stanley,” Ford said gently, as he took one of Stan’s hands in his, “do you…do you feel up to food and drink? I brewed some coco and made chili, I… I know it isn’t much, but it’s the best I could come up with.” 

 

Stan rose his head up ever so slightly to give Ford a rather peculiar stare, his eyes were rather puffy and red, and there were dark stains on his cheeks from the tears that were smeared upon his face. Stan sniffled and a soft scoff came from him. 

 

“No Stan, I didn’t burn the food this time.” Ford huffed, shaking his head, but inwardly he could feel his heart leap with delight. He was slowly but surely guiding hid brother back to him. That scoff of disbelief meant more than Stan would ever know to him. 

 

With some coaxing, Ford was able to get Stan to the kitchen, he helped him to a chair and Stan did the rest by himself. He pulled away from Ford and plopped down onto the chair where he took up the coco without hesitation and began to drink it up. His body shaking the entire time as he did so, causing him to spill some of the warm liquid all over his white shirt, staining it even further. Though he didn’t seem to give a damn, the warm coco was chasing away the icy coldness that had invaded his body.  

 

He just couldn’t help but down it quickly, the warmth was so inviting and welcomed. He had been so cold, so very cold…for a very long time. Even way before the ice and snow that he’d spent an hour or two in before he finally knocked on Ford’s door. He’d just been so cold for years, and yet nothing had warmed him up quite like this coco. It was so delicious and it was the best thing he’d ever drank; not even alcohol could compare to the euphoria he was experiencing because of this coco.  

 

He didn’t understand how or why this coco was so fucking good, all he knew was that it was. However all good things must come to an end, it was a harsh lesson that everyone had to learn.  

 

A lesson that Stan knew probably better than most, and once the coco was gone, the warmth rapidly faded away and he was left numb once more. 

 

It was just as fleeting as the love he and Ford once shared. Their love had been just like this, he remembered it so fondly.  

 

Ford had made him feel so loved, so elated, so complete. He’d never once loved himself, but he’d gotten pretty damn close to loving himself when Ford had loved him. 

 

Stan had always loathed who he was, and he loathed himself up until the point Ford bestowed his heart to him that night, when they were fifteen years old. It was the night when Stan had been plagued with night terrors that Ford hated him, never wished to see him again. 

 

Ford left him all alone, and he didn’t ever come back. Once he’d awoken in sobs, Ford had climbed down to his bunk and reassured him despite not knowing what was wrong. 

 

Through his heavy sobs, Stan begged him then to never leave him all alone. Then just like that without any warning Ford took his cheeks into his hands and pressed their lips together. It was obvious to the both of them by the time Ford pulled away, that he didn’t even realize he’d done that.  

 

After an awkward minute if just staring at one another, Ford held Stan tightly against him and kissed him, over and over, whispering that he loved him so much. 

 

It was then that Stan started hating himself a little less and less with every kiss and every whispering declaration of love. Stan didn’t hesitate to kiss back, and his soft whimpers had ceased to be.  

 

After several minutes of kissing, they broke away for air and Stan confessed that he too loved Ford. Then they’d both laid down to hold one another close, it was then that Ford promised he’d never leave him, not ever. 

 

So much for that... 

 

Did Ford even mean what he said that night? Or had that all meant nothing to him. Had he only felt obligated to say he loved him? It would make perfect sense, given Ford’s reaction to kissing Stan, it was clear as the crystalline waves of the ocean blue that he hadn’t intended on doing so.  

 

It was just a split-second lapse of judgement that led to Ford kissing him. So of course, Ford would have to say he loved him, just so he wouldn’t fall over dead by sheer shame. It hadn’t meant a single thing to Ford. None of those secret moments between them had ever meant a fucking thing to Ford.  

 

All those stolen kisses, all those longer than acceptable hugs, all those sweet nothings they’d tell one another. Hell, not even the night they’d finally turned eighteen, snuck out at midnight to escape to the beach, where they stripped down underneath the moonlight in the cover of the shadows, all alone to fuck each other in the shallow waters. 

 

It didn’t mean anything to Ford. When it had meant everything to Stan. Ford had been his whole entire Universe. But he hadn’t been Ford’s Universe, that much was now clear to him. Ford had left him to go find his own Universe far away from him, too far away from him to reach.

 

Even as he sat across from Ford at the kitchen table, he still felt a million miles away. Ford had promised him he’d never leave him and he had lied. He’d left him to pick up the shattered pieces of his heart, but he never could find all the pieces.  

 

Because Ford still had the majority of his heart. His heart was still just as in pieces as it had been the day Ford turned away from him, and left him to face a cold, cruel and ruthless life alone. When they should have faced it together, and created a world that was all their own. A better world where nothing would ever hurt. They’d never be hurt by their father, their peers, or the cruelty of the society around them ever again.  

 

They would have been happy, so very happy together, sailing the world without ever worrying about the future because they had one another. 

 

But that was just a childish fantasy, wasn’t it?  

 

There was no happy ending to anything, everything good always came to an end. 

 

It didn’t register until some stray tears had fallen from his cheeks and landed in the cup, that there was still a small amount of coco at the bottom of the cup. Yet he didn’t bring it back up to his lips to drink the last of it. It was now tainted with the bitterness of knowing that their love had been a façade.  

 

Ford may have loved him in some sense, but not how Stan loved him. God, Stan loved him far more than any words or actions could ever express, and damn it all he still did. Why? Why did he still love him? Why couldn’t he have moved on like Ford had? He could feel a wretched sob rising in his throat and he reached quickly for his spoon and bowl of chili.  

 

He haphazardly stabbed the spoon into the bowl, nearly flipping it over. Then he began to shovel the chili into his mouth with forced gusto. He thought the food would help him find some type of escape, but all he felt was sickened. He couldn’t escape… he could never escape. He’d tried and tried, again and again, failing each time. And after each attempt of trying to escape, all he did was fall deeper in love with Ford. He knew he couldn’t ever have him, but it didn’t matter. He loved him... he loved him so much.

 

**He loves him… he loves him… he loves him.**

 

Ford was at his side now, because he’d finished his chili without even noticing it. He didn’t even struggle as Ford helped him up and off the chair. He was so caught up in his own thoughts, that he hardly even registered Ford telling him to come back to the living room. Aimlessly he followed behind Ford back to the living room.  

  
  
**He loves him... he loves him...he loves him.**

When they neared the couch, Stan snapped out of his dazed stupor and he grasped at the sleeve of Ford’s white shirt. He no longer had that long coat on, he must have taken if off when he was cooking. He tugged harshly at Ford’s sleeve, insidious animosity burning throughout his entire being, infiltrating every cell, every dark corner within him.

  
**He loves him... he loves him... HE LOVES HIM. Why? Why had Stanford left him? Why!? WHY!?**  
  
  
When Ford turned around, Stan whipped his arm back and brought forward, with every intention on striking Ford with a left hook to his stupid face.  This caused Ford to flinch violently, as he tried to pull away. Yet as Stan’s fist connected, it didn’t connect against Ford’s face at all, instead he felt it against his chest. But that wasn’t what confused Ford, what confused Ford the most was how weak the punch was. 

 

The punch had no power behind it, there was no pain that followed. 

 

“S-Stan?” 

 

Ford stammered, his whole body as rigid as a sheet of ice. 

 

Stan’s face was covered in an endless stream of silent lamentation, he was shaking so much that Ford could feel the vibrations rattling the floor boards.  

 

Stan rose up the other hand, curled it into a fist, and he began pound both of them into Ford's chest, but like the first punch they had no force behind them. 

 

**“You-!”**

 

An agonized and ravaged sob cut off Stan’s frail voice, it was as if he hadn’t spoken in years. **“You fucking asshole! It… it was supposed to be us forever! You…you promised! You promised you wouldn’t… you wouldn’t…”**  

 

More wretched sobs poured from him, his tears so plentiful that if it went on any longer, he may just drown the whole world in a sea of sorrow. All the memories of living alone without his beloved Ford came back tenfold.  

 

All those nights he’d cry himself to sleep in his car, all those moments he’d spot someone together and they were happy, it would remind him of what he’d lost, all of those nights he jolted awake and cried with no on there to promise him everything was alright. Ford had once been there… but then he wasn’t.  

 

Because he’d fucking left him all alone for ten years. **“Ten years! Ten fucking years Ford-!”** His breathing hitched in his lungs, as his voice began to crescendo into hysterics.  **“You left me! You left me! You fucking promised t-that you- but… but you  fu** **-fucking…left you…you…”** More memories burst forth as he recalled his darkest days on the streets. 

 

Fighting to survive, never knowing when his next meal would be, never knowing when it was safe to sleep, never knowing when he’d have to run. Never knowing when he’d have to watch his back or risk being mugged, kidnapped, or nearly murdered, or even ra--- 

 

Stan was unable to support himself any longer. He lurched forward and fell against his twin, who caught him at the last second. This sent both of them falling forward, but their fall was cushioned by the couch. However, it had nearly knocked Ford right over it, and it did tip over ever so slightly, luckily it corrected itself when his and Ford’s weight pressed down into the cushions. 

 

 **“F-Ford…F-For- Forrddd** **…S-ST-STANFORD!”**

 

The pieces that remained of Stan’s heart broke into dust, and he buried his face against Ford’s chest. He sobbed without restraint, wrapping his arms around Ford in an iron grip.  

 

Barely keeping his knees from sliding on the floor, and falling into a pathetic mess upon the floor. No more words left Stan, though he tried, all that happened was broken up noises that sounded like words, but ultimately, they devolved into nothing but muffled wails. 

 

Ford didn’t know how to respond to this outburst. Though he had plenty of warning signs that Stan had been a dark cloud about to burst, he only thought he’d break down in a nonverbal manner. He never expected him to be verbal, nor did he expect to hear those words out of his mouth.  

 

At a loss, all he could do was strenuously pull Stan up and onto the couch. Ford shifted positions to be lying across the couch, his shoulders and head propped up by the couch arm, with Stan lying atop him, wailing and sobbing as if it were the end of the world. And to Stan, perhaps it was, perhaps he’d finally snapped after all those years by his lonesome. 

 

“Stan… I… I’m so…”  _It’s too late for apologies, you’ve broken him. This is all your fault and you know it._  Ford shivered with the intrusive thought. Still he couldn’t just be silent, he had to say something… anything.

 

He couldn’t bear to see Stan cry; he was supposed to smile and laugh. He wasn’t supposed to be this sorrowful shell lying in his arms. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry I…I never meant to… I swear that I-!”  

 

He’d never meant to hurt Stan like this, but he had and he was now suffering from the consequences of his choice ten years ago. He never should have let Stan go, why had he let him go? If he had known that Stan would come to him ten years later, so devastated and hopeless, he never would have let him drive away.  

 

“I’m so sorry… I’m so sorry.” He could feel Stan’s tears soak through his white shirt and onto his chest. "Shhhh….shhhh… don’t…don’t cry, please don’t cry.” He lightly caressed a hand against Stan’s back, he could feel Stan’s body heave with his wretched sobs. His other hand went up to brush through his mullet and he kissed the top of his head.  

 

“I’m here…I’m right here Stan.” He murmured, trying his best to not break as well. Stan needed him now more than ever.

 

He had to remain in control, it wouldn’t help the situation if he broke as well. “Shhhh…shh, I’ve got you Stan, your big brother has you.” All he could do was continue to reassure Stan until his meltdown passed. 

 

Stan reeked of grease, gasoline, and of sweat, but Ford couldn’t care less. He didn’t lean away, he just pressed kiss after kiss atop Stan’s head. Stan wasn’t supposed to cry… he had to fix the wrong somehow.

 

“Shhh…” He hushed over and over like a broken record, trying its hardest to do the correction action. He didn’t know what to do or how to calm Stan. 

 

“Please don’t cry, please.” 

 

Stan didn’t seem to hear him, as he sobbed heavily against the fabric of Ford’s shirt. He burrowed his face even more into his chest, nearly stifling his sobs but not quite.

 

Even though his sobs were muffled, they still rang with misery and despair. Stan was clutching against Ford as if he were a drowning man. And at this rate Ford was inclined to believe that Stan basically was one, he was giving into his despair.  

 

He was giving up… 

 

“Shhh....” Ford doubted his attempts were getting through to Stan, but he couldn’t just give up. It was clear that Stan needed him, had needed him, for a long time. He couldn’t just deprive Stan of that, not after he’d gone without it for ten years.  

 

Yet before he had another chance to try and hush him, Stan lifted his head slightly up, not looking at him, but just enough to leave space between his mouth and Ford’s chest. 

 

**“I- I... I lo-loved you...I lo-loved you...I lo-loved  you..s -so m-much... I...I still... I still love you... I... can’t...I’ve t-tried to st -stop, but I f-fucking can’t. Y-You le-left me...I. ..I  s-swear it was... was an accident F-Ford. It was an accident-!”**

 

More strangled sobs choked his words, and his head sunk slowly back into Ford’s chest. He couldn’t get a grip on himself for even a few seconds to speak, he was such a failure. He was worthless, not good for nothing and no one.

 

Why was he so fucking broken up over this? He didn’t deserve anything. Not his name, not his clothes on his back, not food, not water, he didn’t deserve to live even. He especially didn’t deserve any type of love from Ford, no matter what it was. 

 

He had no right to be crying his heart out, and yet here he was utterly powerless to keep himself from doing so. All he ever did was ruin everything for everyone. He ruined the family by being born, he ruined Ford’s life by breaking the project, and now he was ruining Ford’s life again by burdening him like this. 

 

 **“** **M’sorry! M’sorry Ford! M’sorry,** **I...I...”** His words faltered with every hitching breath he breathed through his heavy and throbbing lungs.  

 

All he could do now was cry. 

 

And he did, he cried for nearly two hours straight, Ford cradling him in his arms, which he didn’t deserve. Ford whispering soothing assurances to him, which he didn’t deserve. Ford kissing him wherever he could reach, which he didn’t deserve. 

 

After Stan’s sobs quieted down into whimpers, Ford retracted his arms from around him. He lifted Stan’s face so he could gaze into his eyes, he brushed away any remaining tears off of his cheeks. Then when more spilled over, he brushed them away as well. 

 

It was then that Ford spoke, without any hint of hesitation or uncertainty, his voice was sure, firm and heartfelt. Stan nearly missed what he said, but what was said was something he just couldn’t believe. 

 

“I love you.” 

 

Stan was going to argue with this sentiment, he had opened his mouth, but before any words could be spoken, Ford craned his head down to close the space between their lips. He connected their lips together, and poured every last ounce of love he’d kept locked away for so long, into Stan. 

 

Awestruck, Stan was left completely frozen, as a warmth began creeping into him. But then the cold numbness struck back and destroyed the warmth. He yanked his head away from Ford and stared at him, fresh new tears rolling down his cheeks.

 

“S-Stop... don’t...”

 

Ford regarded him with a confused, and slightly hurt look, “Stan...why I... I don’t understand...?” 

 

“Don’t... you don’t go-gotta lie to me Ford...I know... that ya don’t love me.”  

 

Stan took in a shaky breath, averting his gaze away, so he didn’t have to stare into Ford’s beautiful chocolate eyes. He didn’t deserve to, after all, did he?  

 

“P-Please... d-don't lie to me. I know... I know it n-never meant an-anything to ya. B-But Ford...oh Moses, Ford, it meant everythin’ to me.” Stan swallowed back a sob, he was finished crying over the love he never even had.

 

“I-I understand now t-that you only said ya loved me cause ya kissed me without m-meaning ta back then and---” 

 

“I love you.” Ford interrupted sharply, there was no trace of dishonesty in his voice. 

 

“I love you, Stanley Pines, I always did and still do. Do you really think that I would have kissed you if I didn’t? Stan I...” The dam that he’d put up broken, and now tears were rolling down his cheeks.  

 

“You’re wrong, it didn’t mean nothing, it meant everything and more to me Stanley. It’s why I was so hurt back then. It wasn’t about the project, not really. It’s because you broke my trust... and... damn it, Stan I never meant to hurt you either. I swear I’m not lying to you. It meant everything.” 

 

 **“THEN WHY DID YOU LEAVE ME!?”** Stan snapped out, gritting his teeth, trying not to fall back into sobs. 

 

“You’re the one that left, Knucklehead.” Ford replied, with an air of calmness that infuriated Stan. 

 

 **“I only left because dad made me! Smartass!”** Stan trembled, more burning tears trailing down his cheeks, causing them to sting. **“B-But you... you left me alone...for ten years Ford...”**

 

 **“I never meant to!”** Ford replied; this time Stan had succeeded in getting a rise out of him. Making his breath hitch, and now he was trembling, even if it was only subtle. **“I never wanted you to go in the first place!”**

 

**“Then why’d you let me!?”**

 

 **“Because-!”** Ford began but clamed up, and closed his eyes tightly, his whole frame trembling more forcefully now.

 

“Pa punched me and locked me in my room, Stan. By the time I was let out, you were long gone. I couldn’t find you...I tried many times, but whenever I got close you were gone.” He took in deep breaths to calm himself. 

 

“All these years I tried, and I honestly thought you were dead Stan. Your trail vanished a year ago. I decided to try this one last time to reach you, and I finally was able to get ahold of you.”  

 

Stan didn’t have a retort to this, he had devolved back into a trembling and whimpering mess. His grip upon Ford tightened and he just cried.

 

He didn’t know what else to do, he cried in sorrow, he cried in pain, he cried in fury. The fact that Pa had laid a hand on Ford was enough to nearly make him sick. 

 

Ford recaptured Stan’s face in his hands and began to kiss him, over and over, deeper and deeper, and in between kisses, he whispered, “I love you, Lee.” To Stan, and he wouldn’t cease until Stan believed it to be so. Ford had allowed Stan to fall once, and he hadn’t been there to catch him. This time if Stan ever fell again, he’d be there to catch him always. 

 

Ah to fucking hell with it, Stan kissed back, over and over, with a craving he didn’t think could ever be satisfied. He needed Ford, oh Moses, he needed him so fucking bad. With every kiss and every ‘I love you’ that Ford whispered, the icy chill within Stan was being replaced by a loving warmth.  

 

The broken pieces of his shattered heart were slowly being pieced back together, and finally after ten long years; his heart had mended. The last of the chill dissolved with the warmth that he’d nearly all but forgotten. 

 

Stan knew that at some point within the kisses he began to return the sentiment. The two of them were so enthralled by the other that they lost track of time and the world itself. 

 

They were in their own little world, where there was no pain, no sorrow, no chill. It was just the both of them, losing themselves in each other’s love and warmth, after ten long years they were together, at long last.

 

What were once tears of sorrow were now tears of elation, and Stan’s kisses became charged with fervor. Catching Ford quite off guard, as he struggled to keep pace with Stan. 

* * *

 

* * *

This reminded Stan of their midnight rendezvous at the beach, how they became lost within one another.

  
  
They’d had only just turned eighteen years old. To celebrate they’d snuck out, intent on going skinny dipping in the water, only meaning to goof around, and have fun.  

 

Perhaps the thought of fucking like dogs had crossed their minds once or twice that night, because instead of only skinny dipping. they well. fucked one another.

 

It happened all so fast, that Stan couldn’t quite recall all the details. Going to the beach was a blur, the only memory that was clear to him was right before they even stepped a toe in the water. Stan had removed his shirt, and his eyes locked with Ford’s gaze.  

 

Ford’s face had gone a crimson red and he stared wide eyed at Stan, gazing him up and down. Then his nerdy twin had done something quite unexpected, he had marched up to Stan, placed his hands on his chest and gently caressed them down to his jeans.

 

Then with all the frenzy of a starved mutt, Ford had undone the button and nearly teared Stan’s pants right off of him, with such force that Stan didn’t know Ford possessed. Before either of them knew it, they had stripped each other of their clothing, leaving them both exposed in front of the other.  

 

It wasn’t as if they hadn’t seen each other naked before, but that night it felt different, too different for either of them to ignore. 

 

Recklessly they had both stumbled like drunken idiots into the shallows, and they had made sweet, sweet love, like horny sailors of the deep blue sea. 

* * *

 

* * *

The memory was promptly shattered, when reality crashed down upon Stan, though this time he didn’t mind reality ripping him from a fond memory. There was something that required his attention, urgently.

 

Stan could feel himself becoming hot down in his nether regions, but before he could go erect, he felt something push against his cock. He pulled away, panting heavily, with a sharp gasp. His and Ford’s breaths mingling in the air.  

 

“Is... that... is that a nerd pen in your pants Ford, or are ya jus’ happy ta see me?” He hummed out huskily, giving his twin a smug smirk. 

 

“S-Shut up.” Ford moaned, so what if he was aroused, damn it? He hadn’t been fucked since that night on the beach.

 

Yes, he had his hands, and yes, he had twelve fingers, but they still paled in comparison to Stan, and his ten fingers who knew just how to pleasure him. 

 

“Alright, I suppose I’ll have to check then, if you’re gonna be a little bitch about it.” Stan couldn’t help but snicker at Ford’s sheepish demeanor and how he was being defensive.  

 

He was still the same old Sixer as Stan remembered him. For Stan, it too had also been a long damn time, since he’d gotten off. Maybe not as long as Ford had gone without it, but still pretty damn long. Speaking of long, he doubted Ford even realized how big he’d gotten.

 

Or perhaps he had, they were twins after all. He was sure that Ford was also quite girthy now. As he went to go shove his hands down Ford’s pants, without any warning Ford’s pelvis pressed up and against his cock, making him gasp and moan with utter delight.  

 

Ford wriggled himself down onto the couch, so he could be at Stan’s mercy. He looked up at Stan, who was now looming over him, he reached up and cupped his face. “F-Fuck me.” He whispered with clear desire; his baritone voice only served to harden Stan’s erection. 

 

“M’sorry, what didya say? My ears ain’t what they used ta be, Ford.” 

 

 **“Fuck me!”** Ford’s tone rose a few octaves, his voice commanded such authority. As he moved his hands to the back of Stan’s neck and yanked him down for a needy kiss that took Stan’s very breath away. 

 

Once Stan was free to pull away for air he gazed down at Ford, finding the love that he thought he never had right there in his eyes. He couldn’t help but allow a soft smile to spread across his face. “Alright then, it’s your ass’s funeral.” 

 

Ford’s face became a deep cherry red, “Uhh...what?” He asked, feeling quite foolish, not really understanding what Stan meant by his comment. 

 

“I’ve gotten much bigger since last time Ford, and I don’t wanna toot my own horn here or nothin’ but well I’ve had a lot more experience since last time. M’gonna fuck you all night long, into this fucking couch, you better chug all the damn coffee in this house before we start, there will be no sleep for you.” 

 

Ford swallowed thickly and nodded, a breath of anticipation leaving him, as he mentally processed the information Stan and given him, and the mentally began to prepare himself for what was to come. “Oh dear...”  

 

* * *

 

It was lucky for both Stan and Ford that the cabin was so far back into the woods and that there was a howling snowstorm happening outside.

 

Otherwise someone might have called the fuzz on them, for the euphoric screams of both Pines that night was enough to make anyone think someone was being murdered within those walls. 

 

* * *

 

Come the rising of the sun, the snowstorm dissipated, and Stan and Ford were lying cuddled up against one another on the couch.

 

They could feel each other’s beating hearts against one another’s chests. Ford had his head buried against Stan’s shoulder, his breathing soft and low, indicating he’d fallen asleep. 

 

They had only just run out of steam about an hour ago, and Stan had decided to let Ford get some rest. Their bodies covered with a fine layer of sweat, and with their own seed. The entire couch, and probably the floor, was also covered with their cum.

 

Despite everything that had occurred, despite them both rekindling their love, despite all those assurances, Stan just had to be certain. He has to be sure that Ford wouldn't ever leave him.

 

“Hey, Ford.” Stan murmured, as he gently roused Ford awake.

 

Ford’s eyes opened groggily, his gaze found Stan’s, and he smiled lovingly. He reached out and brushed his thumb across Stan’s cheek. “Mhnnn?” 

 

Stan placed his hand over Ford’s and grasped it gently. 

 

“Never leave me again, Stanford.” 

 

“I won’t leave you, ever again, Lee.” 

 

“Promise?” 

 

“I promise, Lee.” 

 

And he never did. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now before you say Stan breaking down like this is out of character, please remember he is only human. His life was harsh in canon before, and in this story, I made it even more so. Stan was deprived of a home, the one he loved, left out on the streets where he struggled to get by, where he nearly died quite a few times, where he was probably abused by those unkind to people in his circumstances. 
> 
> Not only that but he has been sexually assaulted. So when he arrives at Ford's place, he's already on his last legs, he's about to fall over the edge. To top it all off, he is lead to believe that Ford never even loved him in the first place. Any human would break down at this point, Stan may be a tough son of a bitch, but even he has his limits and in this fanfic he was at his limit.
> 
> So yeah, I hope that this can clear up any issue of Stan feeling out of character. Because the way I see, a character we don't normally see crying, crying in fanworks and fanfiction isn't out of character, given if the circumstances of why they cried is believable. And in this case, I would say the circumstances that led Stan to break are believable. Or atleast I hope so.
> 
>  
> 
> Also this is the first time I have ever written Stan and Ford being some what sexual towards one another. Mostly I write stangst and fluff. But well I was feeling a bit naughty at the end of this chapter, and well I think we all deserved to have some naughty Stans after all that Stangst.
> 
> And hey, it's been ten years, give them a break. They both deserved a good fucking.


	3. We Already Are

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> During Soos and Melody's wedding, a certain old sap gets emotional.
> 
> Stan wants to get married to Ford  
> Ford thinks Stan has forgotten something.  
> But Stan hasn't forgotten anything.

“Melody, I’m not really sure why you’d choose a guy like me, to be your number one in this crazy game called life. But, well I’m glad you chose me to share your one life with. I may not have a lot of money, I may be clumsy and I may not know how to be romantic. But what I do know is that I love you and I promise I’ll care for you in sickness and in health until a game over does us part.”

  
It was a beautiful evening, the moon was rising upwards into the sky, the last remnants of the day soaking in with the dark blue-purple hues that had painted itself across the vast expanse of the upper atmosphere. Stars were already beginning to dot the sky, glistening brightly above the garden wedding below.

Soos and Melody were being bond as one in holy matrimony.

All was silent in the rows of chairs that had been settled down in front of the alter. There wasn’t any noise except the muffled sniffles of the proud and grunkley kind.

Stan’s brown eyes misted with sentiment as he placed a hand firmly over his mouth in an attempt to keep his emotional outpouring to a minimum.

He had been picked as Soos’s best man, however Soos, ever the considerate handy repair lad he’d always been, told Stan to rest his bones and just sit in the front row.

  
Stan had initially refused to do so, and had stood proudly just behind Soos, that is until, curse his rotten luck, an all too familiar throbbing ache blossomed in the very center of his lower back.

This had been right after Melody had been given away to Soos by her father. It was then Stan regretted ever so slightly on trying to take the task of setting up all those tables, chairs, decorations and the outdoor lights to illuminate the garden in a grandiose spectacle to fit the romantic aura.

  
His heart may have been in the right place, but alas, Pines luck true to form, his body had given him a big old fuck you. So now there he sit in the front row, right next to his nerdy twin brother Ford, who was far more composed. Though if one looked carefully into those deep chocolate oculars of his, one would see they shined with a certain fondness.

  
Though Ford didn’t have that Father-Son bond that Stan and Soos possessed, Ford had grown to see Soos as if he were another nephew of his. Considering Stan had just adopted Soos through very illegal and shady means a month prior to the wedding, and trust the narrative when it tells you, you don’t want to know how, Soos really was Ford’s nephew. He and Stan were going to gain a niece by marriage once Melody and Soos finalized their vows.

  
As Soos finished his vows, Melody began hers, but what they were exactly, Stan wouldn’t be able to tell you until he reviewed the recording of the wedding at a later date. It’s not that he had intended to zone out, but he couldn’t very well help it.

Not when Ford looked so… so damn drop dead gorgeous, within his dapper black wedding suit.

  
His tie neatly knotted, a beautiful rose stemming from the breast pocket. Everything that was adorned upon Ford was tidy and it all fit his body so naturally, it was as if the stars above had bestowed it upon him. Stan’s muffled sniffling came to an end, as he swallowed thickly.

  
Surely Soos would forgive Stan for not paying attention? Surely he’d understand that Stan couldn’t bear to look away at the beauty he was beholding. His own precious treasure, one that meant far more to him than anything else, his Ford.

  
Absentmindedly his other hand came to rest on the top of Ford’s hand, and Stan’s heart skipped several beats when Ford’s hand turned over so he could hold Stan’s hand tightly. He felt Ford squeeze his hand lightly, and their gazes locked together.

Both of them regarding each other with a gaze that told each other how deeply their love ran for one another. It was far more than a lifetime of words could ever express, though even still…

  
“I love you.” Stan whispered, keeping his gruff voice low, so as to be respectful of Soos and Melody, and because these words were for only Ford to hear. Despite the fact that everyone here knew of his and Ford’s relationship, he didn’t want prying eyes or ears to witness his displays of affection towards his twin.

  
He wasn’t embarrassed by Ford or their relationship, in fact he was so damn proud of it that he’d constantly proclaim Ford was spoken for, in case someone didn’t get the memo the first million times he’s declared it.

  
The reason as to why he wished to keep his and Ford’s displays between just the two of them, was that he felt like those moments were sacred, far too precious for anyone else to experience.

It was something just for them, all those secret moments were for them and them alone. The treasure that was their love deserved to be protected and cherished, as to remain untainted from any outside influences.

  
Far too many times Ford had been spirited away from him by some outside force they couldn’t even fathom. Once for ten years, the other for thirty years, and then a few months after that. Who could blame him for not wanting anyone else to experience, even second handedly, what he and Ford had together.

  
“Then by the power vested in me, by the marriage counsel of Gravity Falls, Oregon, I now pronounce you husband and wife! You may now kiss the bride! May your lives be filled with well health and good fortune.”

  
Stan’s admiration of Ford was shattered as the priest announced Soos and Melody husband and wife. Everyone began to cheer with jubilation and excitement as Soos and Melody sealed their vows with a kiss.

Stan joined in on the cheering, his voice perhaps being the most boisterous of them all. More tears trailed down his face, as he quickly swiped them away with the cuffs of his tuxedo.

  
Without warning millions of flower petals were let loose into the air, courtesy of Mabel, whom had been picked by Melody to be the flower girl. Standing next to Mabel was her twin Dipper, he held the now empty ring bearer cushion off to his side.

  
After the ceremonial affairs had been seen too, it was time for the reception. All the guests rose form their seats and filed into the building that was rented for the reception. Once inside everyone went up to give their congratulations to Soos and Melody.

  
After everyone else gave their congrats Stan went up to Soos, trying not to break down into a blubbering mess as he did so. He was so proud of Soos and the man he had become. He knew he had done the right thing by handing off the Mystery Shack to him, and by also adopting him into the family.

  
He gave him a clap to his back, “So Soos, when can I expect some grandkiddos? I mean I already got Mabel an’ Dipper over there, but they’re my grand Niece an’ Nephew.” He teased with a devious smirk, as he winked, eyeing over at Melody who was currently speaking with Mabel.

  
Soos blushed a deep tomato red and gave his adoptive father a nervous chuckle, “Well I dunno dad, that’s up to Melody.” He scratched the back of his head, giving Stan a bashful grin.

  
“Stanley.” Ford chastised, as he made his way over to the two of them, he placed his hand on Stan’s shoulder. “Come on now, let’s not make the poor lad faint on his wedding day.”

  
“Hey m’just teasin’ y’know, like all parents do.” Stan replied defensively, but still he couldn’t keep his sly grin under wraps. Hey it wasn’t his fault that Soos was just so easily abashed. Besides it was all in good spirit between the two of them, Stan and Soos both liked to mess around.

  
Like that one time when Soos had pranked Stan with a devious con he hadn’t even seen coming. That one really smarted Stan’s pride as a conman, yet he also was very proud of Soos for out doing him.

After all, Soos had learned from the very best there ever was.

  
“Don’t listen to Stan, Soos, you and Melody have a lot of time to plan,” Ford put an emphasis on the last word, stressing the importance of it greatly, “before the two of you decide on any children.”

  
Soos nodded and gave Ford a thumbs up, “You got it, pa.”

  
Ford smiled sheepishly and fiddled with the cuffs of his sleeves, he still wasn’t quite used to Soos calling him by pa. He had forgotten when it had started up, but one day out of the blue Soos began to call him pa. Saying he was a very lucky man to have two dads.  
Stan let out a snort while rolling his eyes, he reached his arm over Ford and pulled him close to his side ruffling his hair up a bit.

“C’mon Poindexter, I know you want grandkids too, ya can’t fool me. So Soos, here’s the deal, you an’ Melody have kids sometime in me an’ Ford’s lifetime, yeah?”

  
Ford groaned in dismay as he tried to push Stan’s hand away from his hair. “Stanley you’re messing up my hair, Mabel worked so hard to make it just right for this occasion!”

  
Stan couldn’t help but allow a riotous and deep bellied laughter rumble through him, “Lighten up Sixer, the Wedding’s over, it’s time ta party, besides…” He turned Ford towards him, and brought his lips up next to Ford’s ear whispered in a sultry manner, “after all this is over, yah gonna be a mess anyways, a hot one at that.”

  
The hue of Ford’s face rapidly grew a rose red and Stan swore that if they were in a cartoon, then he’d be able to see and hear steam coming from Ford’s ears. Ford’s knees nearly buckled and he let out a stammering gasp, “S-Stanley!”

  
Stan pulled away and was besides himself with pure amusement, he cupped his hands around Ford’s cheeks and gently squished them together. He took note of the very sour expression upon his twin’s face.

  
“Heh, you’re adorable when you’re all worked up like this, Ford.”

  
“Oh… go stuff your head in the wedding cake!” Ford let out a huff as he averted his gaze, still very red in the face.

  
All while Stan and Ford were teasing one another, Soos was left in the dark about what was going on.

However when Ford mentioned the cake Soos’s earlier embarrassment was chased away. “Ah dude, the cake, I nearly forgot about it! Lemme go find the caterers so we can all chow down!”

 

“Ain’t no need for caterers Soos, besides there’s nothin’ more satisfyin’ than grabbing a great big messy, and smooshy handful of cake, and shovin’ that sucker in someone’s face.” Stan released his hold on Ford and lightly brushed a finger tip up Ford’s spine which caused him to shiver with surprise.

“Now if anyone needs me, M’gonna be stuffin’ my face full of cake, excuse me!”

  
With that Stan left Ford a flustered mess, he could still feel the phantom sensation of Stan’s finger trailing up his spine. He swore that after the reception Stan was in for something fierce.

He’d awoken the beast within Ford that normally lie dormant. With a deep sigh, Ford began to take slow deliberate breaths to calm himself down for the time being.  
Soos couldn’t help but stare at Ford in awkward silence, after a minute or two he let out a cough to break it.

“Well uh… I’m not sure what just happened, but I’m gonna go find Melody. I hope you and dad have a good time at our reception.”

  
Ford blinked, being pulled out of his thoughts, “Ah yes, right, thank you Soos we’ll uh… be sure to do just that.” His hands reached upwards to his head, to fix the hairs that came out of place because of Stan’s antics.

“You have a lovely evening with your bride, she’s a very wonderful lass, Soos.”

  
A huge grin spread itself across Soos’s face, he looked as though he was the happiest man in the entire Multiverse, his eyes glowing with unmatched love at the mention of Melody. “Yes sir, pa sir! Melody is like the light of my life, dawg. Well see ya later, pa.” He waved his hand, and turned away to head towards the direction he last saw Melody in.

  
“Soos, my boy.”

  
“Yes?” Soos looked over his shoulder, quizzically raising an eyebrow.

  
“Perhaps a year will be enough time for you and Melody to decide.” Ford couldn’t keep the impish and crooked grin off of his face, “I do beg your pardon, but Lee and I aren’t getting any younger lad.” With that he turned away, and vanished into the crowd to seek Stan out.

A few hours later, the reception was coming to a close, but there was one last special dance at the wedding to complete first. Before the final act of the night, where Melody would let the bouquet fly, and whoever was lucky enough to catch it would be the next one to marry whomever their heart so desired.

  
The last song of the night was a slow dance, where one would grab that special someone and share a loving moment in time with one another. The dance floor began to flood with people looking for their person of affections.  
Soos and Melody had a ready found one another, and were ready for the dance to start.

  
Among the people on the dance floor were Dipper and Pacifica, Candy and Mabel, Grenda and Marius, Blubbs and Durland, Fiddleford and his wife, and many others. Some people that Ford knew and some that he wasn’t acquainted with just yet.

  
“May I have this dance?”

  
Ford turned towards the sound of the gravelly and captivating voice that he knew all too well. Before him Stan held out his hand, his eyes gleaming with adoration for him. Ford gazed upon Stan for a moment, before a soft smile stretched across his face.

“As long as you don’t step on my feet, Knucklehead.” He teased playfully, placing his hand in Stan’s, he allowed Stan to gently lead him into his arms.

  
Ford pressed himself against Stan’s chest, pressing the side of his face against it, listening to the strong and sure beats of his heart. It was enough to take Ford’s very breath away. He couldn’t believe how lucky he was to have such a loving partner to walk through life with.

  
Stan lead him away to the farthest corner of the room, into the shadows, away from any prying eyes. It had been quite a while since he’s had a slow dance with anyone, in fact the very last time he believed he’d ever had a slow dance was with Ford at Senior prom. Actually it was the night they confessed their love for one another.

  
As fate would have it, the song that played at their Senior prom was the song that Soos and Melody picked for the last slow dance of the evening. The atmosphere couldn’t be any more perfect as Stan and Ford swayed in their own little corner of heaven, matching each movement and every step they took together in perfect sync.

  
They let everything melt away, focusing only on each other, feeling as though they were forty years younger. It was just them in this moment, them and their love that only grew with every passing second.

The time got away from them as they danced, they’d almost made it to the end, before Stan decided he couldn’t wait any longer.

He’d spirited Ford away to an even more concealed corner of the dance floor, and he gently pressed him against the wall, pressing deep and passionate, but soft kisses against his lips. Ford returned the kisses in kind, his arms wrapped around Stan, holding him close to him.

  
Each kiss they shared was filled with more love than the last, it seemed nearly impossible they could love each other even more than they already did. Yet here they were, each kiss proving that they could indeed love one another even more.

  
When they inevitably had to pull away for air, they only pulled away just enough that their lips were just centimeters apart. They gazed deeply into each other’s chocolate eyes, getting lost in one another.

  
“I love you.” Stan murmured lowly, pressing his forehead against Ford’s.

  
Ford sighed contentedly, resting his forehead against Stan’s. “I love you too, Lee.”

  
“Dudes and Dudettes! It is time to come on down to the floor, this party is coming to a close and my lovely wife Melody is about to throw to bouquet! Let’s see which lucky lady, gentlemen or person of any gender, catches it!” Soos’s voice called out across the dance floor.

  
Stan and Ford reluctantly pulled away from one another, “Well I suppose we should go see who’s the next sap ta get hitched, eh Sixer?”

  
“I suppose.” Ford replied, as he straightened up his and Stan’s tuxedos, which had become quite disheveled as during their private rendezvous.

  
After he was satisfied that they appeared presentable, they walked back to the floor to join everyone. It would seem that in this reception, anyone could participate in the coveted flight of the bouquet, and not just the ladies.

  
“Alright dawgs! In five… four…. three…two annndddd---”

  
Soos began the count down, but neither Stan nor Ford were paying much attention. Instead their sights had glimpsed Mabel, whom was jumping up and down in her place on the floor, her hands held upwards as if she’d waited her whole life to catch this---

  
Something soft landed atop Ford’s head, it broke his concentration on Mabel. Whatever landed on his head slipped forwards and began to fall to the floor.

 

Ford blinked once and reflexively caught whatever it was that had fallen, just at it passed out his line of sight. Once he looked down at this hands, he realized it was the bouquet.

  
“Oh ho ho!” Stan snickered, a smug grin stretching across his face, he lightly elbowed Ford on the side. “So, Stanford who’s the lucky winner of your affections?”

  
Most of the people gathered on the floor, who knew of Stan and Ford’s established relationship began to chuckle. The others that weren’t aware just stared at the scene in confusion, but said nothing.

  
Ford gave Stan a cross glare, his face once again a lovely shade of red. “Stanley please, not in front of everyone.”

  
Yet Stan couldn’t help himself, even if he wanted to keep Ford all to himself, he couldn’t pass up a chance to tease him like this. He decided that this moment with Ford was one he could ahem, AFFORD, to share with everyone.

  
“I bet they’re really somethin’ special, mhnn?” Stan inched closer to Ford, to wrap an arm around him. “I bet they’re so lucky, ain’t they?”

  
Ford couldn’t find his voice and instead he groaned in utter embarrassment as he quickly tossed the bouquet away from him. Which in turn Mabel promptly pushed her way through the crowd and caught it in her hands.

  
“HAH! YES! I GET MARRIED NEXT!” Mabel cried out, her eyes shimmering, her mouth curving up into a grin that went ear to ear. She held the flowers close to her, and twirled around, tapping her shoes against the floor in an elated jig.

  
All in all the night of Soos and Melody’s wedding had been nothing but perfect. As everyone began to tidy up the building. Soon the guests began to bid their farewells and leave to go home.

  
The last remaining guests were just Stan, Ford, Dipper, and Mabel. Yet Dipper and Mabel were asleep. They were both sitting against a wall, leaning on one another for sleep support.

  
Soos and Melody were finishing up the last of the cake.

  
As for Ford and Stan, they’d gone back to their private corner of the building to continue where the left off. Ford had still been rather salty about the good natured teasing, yet Stan had easily turned the saltiness into sweet sugar.

  
“Hey Stanford…” Stan hummed out breathlessly as he pulled away from a kiss.

  
“Yes Stanley?’ Ford replied in a hushed whisper, giving Stan a curious stare.

  
“Let’s get married.”

  
Ford blinked, processing Stan’s words, before he lightly gave him a shove against his shoulder. Stifling a laugh with his other hand, he spoke matter-of-factly, “Lee, don’t tell me you’ve forgotten. We’re already married, we’ve been married since we were teens.”

  
Stan grinned like the fucking idiot that he was, and took Ford’s hands in his, before staring down at them. The wedding rings on their fingers still as pristine, and beautiful as when he forged them with his own two hands. “I know, Sixer, I know.”

  
Memories of a time long gone by came to the surface of Stan’s mind. He could remember the secret wedding Ford and he had just a few months after prom.

Stan had made them rings from some jewels he’d gotten from their mother. He never told her what they were for, he just told her they were a surprise for someone special.

That’s all she needed to hear to let him have two of her jewels from her collection. Once Stan finished the rings, he and Ford got married on the beach. It was a wedding just for two, it had only been them there, but that didn’t matter to them.

  
They’d been married for nearly their entire lives, but had spent so much of that time apart.

  
“Jus’ would like ta have a weddin’ that we can share with the family, ya know. Heh, still can’t believe yah kept these rings after…” Stan trailed off, not wishing to revisit the night everything fell apart. He didn’t want to recall the events that led him and Ford to drift away from one another,  all those decades ago.

  
Honestly Stan was shocked that Ford had found their old wedding rings in a box he’d kept stowed away in the Shack.

They’d taken most of the boxes from the Shack to store on the boat, and they’d gone through the box that their rings were in by chance to see what was inside it a few months after they’d set sail.

  
They cleaned the rings up, and placed them on their ring fingers, they weren’t ever able to wear thing rings back in their teens. They had to keep them secret, and away from the eyes of the public. So being able to wear them out at sea felt liberating.

  
Stan’s reminiscing was brought to an end when he felt Ford’s soft and warm lips pressing against his. Stan trembled lightly as he pressed back, losing himself to the tender kiss. He could feel Ford’s thumbs gently caress his cheeks, wiping away the wetness of a few unnoticed tears that he shed.

  
After the kiss concluded, Ford spoke once again, “Thought you didn’t want to share our love with the rest of the world, mhnn?”

  
Stan scoffed at this, but still smiling all the same,” I think I can make an exception, this time.”

  
“And only this time?”

  
Stan nodded firmly.

  
“Only this time.”

 

 


	4. Royally Jellybeaned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ford swears he wasn't jealous back then, not at all.

* * *

* * *

* * *

A loud crinkle originated from a plastic bag, as a peculiar hand with six fingers, haphazardly jammed itself into it. Oddly misshaped cold and hard beans pooled onto the palm of the hand, and were then scooped up into parted lips.

From there on the multicolored coated beans were shoved handful by handful into an eager mouth. The different flavors melted and mixed with one another, all across taste buds. Those buds were so overwhelmed with every flavor, that in the end all it tasted like was pure sugar, and nothing else.

Stanford Filbrick Pines, just shy of being eighteen within a few hours, was sitting down on a swing, at the beach, shoving handfuls of jellybeans hastily into his mouth.

He furiously chewed up each wad of beans, and swallowed without any regard that he may very well coke upon his favorite candy in the entire world.

The beans were so sickly sweet he felt as if he could gag it all back up, especially given the sight he was staring at right now. He could see his twin brother, Stanley, being fawned and swooned over by Carla McCorkle, and he was just basking in the attention.

Stan, of course, try to his nature, was not wasting any time in flirting with the lovely young lass.

“Say, are you an angel? Cause I think I’ve died and gone tah Heaven!”

  
Carla’s response to the flirtation was to giggle without restraint and bring her purse up to her face, in an attempt to hide a pretty pink blush.

  
Ford dug the heels of his shoes into the sand below him, shoving more jellybeans into his mouth with his right hand, while his left hand clasped harshly against the rope of the swing.

He tried to ignore the two of them, but he found it becoming increasingly difficult to do, for whenever Stan aimed flirtatious talk at Carla, Ford could feel a boiling warmth within the depths of his stomach.

Stan and Carla were just a few feet away from Ford, settled down onto a large red and white checkered cloth, having a picnic.

He just couldn’t keep his gaze off of them, no matter how much he desperately wished. He shoved another wad of jelly beans into his mouth as he heard Carla bubbly reply to Stan’s flirtations.

“You know, I could have sworn I packed iced tea to go along with our picnic. But I must be mistaken, you have got to be drinking hot tea. Because you certainly are a big hottie~”

Ford’s stomach lurched at that, and the boiling within him rose from his stomach into his chest, making him feel all sorts of irritation.

He shouldn’t feel this way, he hadn’t any right to feel this way, he was the one whom had rejected anything else but brotherhood between him and Stan.

After all Ford had rebuffed Stan’s affections despite feeling the same towards him, as much as Ford wanted to fall into Stan’s arms and get lost in him, it would never work. They’d eventually get caught sooner or later, or they’d fall apart, or…

Out of the corner of his eyes, he caught the motion of Stan and Carla leaning ever closer to one another. He saw Carla eyeing Stan’s lips, as she lightly bit her top teeth down on her bottom lip, and he saw Stan bite his own, slightly glancing off to the side in a shy manner.

However, it didn’t take too long for Stan to locate his bravado, “Carla, babe, looking as gorgeous as you do must be illegal. I’m gonna have to place yah under arrest, because you just stole my breath away.”

They slowly leaned forward, their lips growing closer and closer, until they were about to touch and then-

Ford jumped up from the swing, the last of his jellybeans in the bag went flying out of the bag, scattering all over the sand. Yet Ford couldn’t even be bothered to give a damn about them, he wasn’t about to let anyone steal away Stan’s first kiss.

That kiss was his kiss. Not Carla’s, not any other woman, man, or any other person’s kiss. It was Ford’s kiss, no one was allowed to have it but him. His six fingers clasped the back of Stan’s collar, and he forcefully yanked him away from Carla.

This caused a choked up gasp to eject itself out of Stan’s parted lips, which were opened wide with shock. “F-Ford what the---?”

Ford slipped his hands underneath Stan’s arms and did the best he could to push Stan to his feet, which didn’t work out too well, for Stan ended up leaning away from him and getting to his feet by himself.

“Sixer what is your dam-“ Before he had any moment to continue, Ford hastily grasped the front of Stan’s collar and began to drag him away from Carla.

  
“Hey! Poindexter! What are yah-?”

  
“Be quiet!’

  
The forcefulness of Stan’s voice made Stan’s jaw clamp shut, he’d never heard Ford this infuriated before, it was honestly quite terrifying yet strangely hot all at once.

Ford led them all the way into the secluded cave on which they’d uncovered the Stan O War in. He took them all the way to the place where they found the Stan O War and finally let go, his breaths short and heavy.

Once Stan was freed from his twin’s grasp he let out a huff of annoyance, “Th’hell was that Sixer? I was in the zone bro, I was about to get m’first kiss from that McCorkle babe an yah had tah pull me away-“

Stanley’s voice froze within his vocal cords as his twin’s lips came to press desperately against his. The passion, the need, the desire, all of that was held within the deep and vigorous kiss. Stan’s breath had been stolen away from his lungs, and he was left reeling and dizzy from it all. 

The raw intensity of Ford’s kiss nearly caused his knees to give out, and send him crashing down to the ground.

Ford’s nails were digging harshly into his shoulder blades, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to pay that any heed. He was far too adrift in the passionate kiss he was receiving, a kiss that had caught him by total surprise.

It was a miracle that he managed to keep himself upright during it all. He swore he felt a whimper rise within his throat, when he was deprived of the fervency, as Ford pulled away to take in much needed oxygen.

After Stan recovered from the unexpected display of affection he spoke, rather tersely, “Alright Stanford, what the fuck? After all this time of pushin’ me away, and doin’ what yah wanted by not pinin’ for ya, you’re suddenly pissed off an’ kissing me. What's the big idea brainiac, why yah so hot an' bothered by---”

“I love you.” Ford whispered breathlessly, as he stared deeply within his twin’s chocolate orbs. “I know very well what I said before… but…” He trailed off, averting his gaze to take in a deep breath. He exhaled it shakily, before returning his gaze to Stan’s stare.

“I know I pushed you away, I know I denied you before but… I just couldn’t bear to see you kissing her, Stanley! It felt like I was being boiled alive out there watching the both of you flirt with one another. So when you both went in for the kiss, I…I lost all sense of control I suppose and—"

He groaned loudly as he clumsily tried to explain himself, “I love you Stanley, I know that I pushed you away saying it was far too risky, that we could get caught but--!” His hands moved away from Stan’s back so he could take a hold of Stan’s hands in his. “I want you Stan, I… I can’t imagine me being with anyone else but you and—”

“Hey, hey easy Sixer,” Stan soothed pressing a kiss to his forehead, “it’s alright I understand. Damn if I knew that flirtin’ with Carla was all it took for you to be honest with yore self I woulda done it a long time ago.”

“S-Stanley!” Ford let out a cry of protest, giving him an unamused glare.

A deep bellied laughter shook Stan’s frame, as he leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to Ford’s lips, which seemed to pacify the grumpy nerd, given his hum of approval.

When he pulled away he murmured softly, “I love ya too, Ford.”

  
“I want you to be mine Lee, always.”

  
“I’m yours, always and forever.”

* * *

 

* * *

 

* * *

 

“I’m yours, always and forever.”

Ford barely heard Stan’s gruff voice over the waves of the ocean, as they leaned against the railing of the Stan O War II together. Ford glanced over at Stan, who was regarding him with knowing eyes. “Stan…?” He inquired, raising an confused eyebrow.

“I remembered our first kiss, y’know, in the cave where we found the original Stan O War. Ya got pissed at me for flirtin’ with that Carla chick, so ya dragged me into the cave, damn near about choked me while doin' it, an' then ya just kissed me. Hard an' firm, yet also sweet as fucking sugar too. Must have been all the jelly beans. Damn Sixer it’s almost like you were royally jellybeaned.” Stan’s entire frame shook with uncontrollable chortles, his eyes beginning to water.

Ford’s face became as red as the sky, which was a beautiful orangish red, due to the sun beginning to set for the evening. “Y-yes well, it w-wasn’t quite like that! The heat of the summer got to me and-“

“Ah sure it did Sixer, sure it did.” Stan lightly clapped his hand against Ford’s back. “Come on admit it, ya were so burning up with jealously.”

Ford inhaled sharply pinching the bridge of his nose, “I wasn’t jealous! I was just afraid of committing to…to a relationship with you, I was worried about being found out, I just didn’t realize how much I wanted to be with you, until I saw you with someone else.”

  
“That’s jealousy, Ford.”

  
“Oh, just be quiet Stanley.”

  
“That can be easily arranged.”

  
And Stan was quiet for the rest of the night, as was Ford. Both of them too busy to speak a word to one another, as they kissed one another all the way from the deck, and into the cabin below.

They kissed as they settled down for the night, they kissed as they held one another close in the bottom bunk, and they kissed, and kissed, and kissed some more until the call of slumber finally claimed them.


	5. Rest Now Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rest well my love.  
> The sun will soon rise in the sky above.  
> Thank you for always watching the sunrise with me.  
> So let's be quiet... quiet as the silent sea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just another oneshot full of fluff and love....yup.

* * *

 

* * *

 

* * *

Gentle waves rocked the Stan O War II, the stars above glistening softly within the deep azure sky.

 

Down below in the chambers of the hull, a man lie on the bottom bunk of the bunk bed. There was also another man, of which was settled atop a chair, looming over the other man. The lights of the cabin were dimmed, it was time to wind down after a long day at sea.

 

Two hands, each sporting six fingers, clasped one hand that had five. It was just one of the differences between the two men.

 

Yet as different as they were, they were the perfect team. Lightly, the six fingered hands, squeezed the five fingered hand. The man with the five fingered hand squeezed back, his squeeze even lighter than the one bestowed.

 

“Ford…”

 

“Yes Lee?”

 

Stan stared up at his twin’s face, a tranquil and warm smile stretched itself across his face, his eyes shimmering with adoration and endless affection. “I love you.”

 

Ford blinked, and returned the smile as he brought Stan’s hand up to his mouth and pressed a soft kiss to the top of it, “I love you too.” He whispered, gazing down at his twin with the same amount of sentiment reflecting inside of his own eyes. “Rest now, Lee.”

 

Stan shook his head sluggishly, “Don’t wanna… I wanna be with you.” He mumbled, though even still, despite his refusal, his eyes began to flutter. It was obvious he was struggling against the beck and call of quiescence.

 

Ford gingerly brushed his thumbs in circles, against the back of Stan’s hand. “You’ll always be with me, Lee.” He replied, his voice steady and certain. Though his smile had grown rather weary, the corners of his lips slipping down ever so slightly.

 

“H-Hey… s’alright…” Stan’s grin only grew as he reached out with his free hand and he placed it atop Ford’s. “M’here Ford...”

 

“I know Lee… I know.” A slight crack of tone hitched in his voice, it was subtle and nearly unnoticeable, but still there all the same. Ford leaned down even more, resting his forehead against his twin’s. “Do you remember our first kiss, Lee?”

 

That sweet and joyful, yet noticeably softer laughter, left Stan’s vocals, a hum of nostalgia following after it.

 

“Course nerd… it’s somethin’ I won’t eva forget…nevah.” A soothing wave of calm washed over Stan, as he felt reassured with Ford’s forehead touching his. It almost made it all too easy to surrender… almost.

 

There was just one last thing that would make it all perfect.

 

“Kiss me…?”

 

Ford reluctantly removed his forehead off of his twin’s, and he gazed down into Stan’s hopeful eyes. Ford released a breath he didn’t even realize he’d kept captive in his lungs. “Of course, Lee… is there anything else you need?”

 

“No… jus’ kiss me like yah did the first time… y’know?”

 

Ford nodded in compliance as he angled his head in the correct position. He brought his lips to Stan’s and connected with passion and tenderness. He poured every last ounce of his love for Stan into it. Hoping he’ll never forget just how much he was loved.

 

Oh how Ford loves Stan, he loves him so much, far more than words could convey. There were no words in any language on Earth or in the Multiverse, otherwise, that could ever come close to describing just how deeply he loved his twin.

 

He began to tremble lightly, as Stan returned the kiss, his hands coming to rest against his shoulder blades, grasping at the dark maroon fabric of his sweater as best as he was able.

 

The two became lost within one another, just as they so often did. So much that they last track of just how long it lasted, though it would never be quite enough.

 

Even after this kiss they’d want so much more, but…

 

Stan was the first to pull away, forcing himself to do so, his breaths heavy and deep as he gulped down the air his lungs were starved for. He stared up at Ford, and through his breathlessness, he whispered, “Love ya… so much…”

 

Ford’s smile wavered more, as he reached up and began to caress his fingers through Stan’s silver, mostly white locks, of long unruly hair.

 

“Shhh… rest now.” He hushed softly, he just couldn’t help but peer into Stan’s beautiful brown eyes. He couldn’t help but admire how alluring they were. He wouldn’t mind it if he got lost forever in those eyes.

 

“You go-gonna be alright? Yeh? Is it really o-okay? Pr-promise?”

 

“Shhh… just like you said it will be alright. I promise Lee, you can rest, I'll be alright. I can manage just fine, so please rest. You’re so tired…please.”

 

“I know… but what…what if yah get hurt an..and m’not here ta---”

 

“Stanley, I’ll be alright.” Ford reaffirmed, his smile once again sure and true. “Please close your eyes, you can rest. Everything will be okay…”

 

A soft sigh eased passed Stan’s parted lips, a delicate chuckle following after it, “Alright alright, Poindexter… see ya in the mornin’ when m’feelin better, okay? I love ya Stanford…”

 

“Yes, of course Lee. Rest up so you can join me for the sunrise tomorrow.” Ford replied, as he placed one last short and sweet kiss to Stan’s lips. “I love you too, so much Stanley, always.”

 

Stan’s eyes slipped close, his breathing slowing down, becoming soft and contented, in blissful surrender.

 

Ford hunched over so he could rest his cheek against Stan’s chest. He listened to the lovely beating of his heart. He allowed his eyes to close as well, and he was slowly being lulled to sleep by the sound.

 

“Rest now, love.” Ford whispered, before he succumbed to slumber.

* * *

 

* * *

 

* * *

Gentle waves rocked the Stan O War II, the stars above began to fade from the light pink sky. A man stood, leaned over the rail, of the boat, staring down at his somber reflection, as it rippled in the waves. A shadow looming behind him.

 

“Thanks for watching the sunrise with me again, Stanley. You know… it’s been a long time since we’ve sat down, and just breathed. We’ve been so busy lately exploring the world… so why don’t we take today off, and sit under the sun and just breathe? Does that sound alright… can we do that today, Lee?”

 

There was no answer, but it wasn’t as though Stanford expected one in the first place. The shadow behind him was his own, cast across the deck by the sun's gentle rays.

 

A tear rolled down his cheek… then another…and another. Until tears were cascading down both cheeks, as if a torrential downpour of rain was falling over the silent sea.

 

One man stood all alone, as the waves gently rocked the Stan O War II, while the sun rose up above.

 

While one body lie underneath the deck below…

 

Silent…

 

Just like the sea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're confused about what happened...
> 
> Stan passed away. He went peacefully as you can see, due to old age. For this oneshot I'd say Stan is almost 90 yrs old, probably 88. 
> 
> Don't worry he passed away right besides Ford, like he always wanted. Doing what they loved... sailing.
> 
> I also doubt Ford has long to live either, so he should pass on soon after Stan.
> 
> Well anyway, what can I say except I'm sorry? ((Coughcoughsorrynotsorry))
> 
> And yes if it wasn't clear enough Stan was aware he was dying. And Ford was also aware Stan was dying.
> 
> Remember if you liked this oneshot plz leave a review! I'd really appreciate it!


	6. Break Me Down And Make Me Whole Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ford had cruelly been broken down into pieces, and then lovingly put back together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello hello hello! Guess who's back? Starla's back tell a friend. I'm in a "let's hurt Ford" mood lately if you haven't noticed. Remember last time though when I hurt Stan, and made him cry like a little bitch. Well this time it's Ford's turn. Hope you like it!
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: Mentions of noncon and attempted suicide.  
> ___________________________
> 
> ___________________________
> 
> ___________________________

He felt nothing…nothing at all. He was numb from his head, his twelve fingers and all the way down to his toes. His eyes were swollen and red, as were his cheeks and they were also puffy.

 

Stanford Pines had never felt so low in his entire life. The cabin was in shambles, even more so than last night. For he had broken into shattered pieces, so fragile and splintered.

  
He had taken all his agony out on his home. Knocking over anything and everything. He had teared up so many damn books, pages were strewn about as far as the eye could see.

 

Glass shards littered the ground because of all the damn alcohol he’d down trying to drown out the burning white hot and frigid ice cold sorrow that bleed out of his soul and poisoned him from the inside out.

 

Yet it hadn’t been enough, he’d emptied his entire stash and it had hardly numbed him.  
He had been so violently ill the night prior, puking up his damn guts into the toilet.

 

Nearly overflowing it several time with the amount of flushes he put it through. He had gorged and then emptied himself of all his alcohol in the span of a night. One would expect he’d have a killer headache and yet…  
Stanford Pines felt nothing…

  
He was broken.

  
The other day Stan had come like he’d ask, and he attempted to instruct Stan to take his Journal. Yet halfway through the tense conversation, Bill evicted him from his body and things spiraled down hill from there.  
And his deepest and darkest secret for Stan had been unveiled.

  
As he watched helplessly as Bill used his body to hurt Stanley in such a uncouth way. He forced Stanley to give him a blow job. Yet that wasn’t even the half of it, Bill fucking spilled Ford’s little secret as he taunted Stan. He told Stan every last intricate detail of what a freak his twin actually was. How Ford was madly, deeply and truly in love with him.

  
Stan vehemently denied Bill’s outrageous claims, glaring at him icily with hatred and disgust radiating from him. If looks could kill then Bill would have dropped dead. Ford could only helplessly watch in utter terror, seeing the look in Stan’s eyes was mortifying.

  
Then when Bill had finally got off, the sick little fuck abandoned Ford’s body and left him to deal with the fall out. Once Ford came too and Stan asked in a dangerously low whisper if it had all been true. If he had loved him since they were teens, Ford couldn’t lie to save his life.

  
He’d always been a failure when it came to lying…and Stan would see right through him. There had been no point in hiding it. He had done nothing but whimper meekly and choked out a pitiful apology. He had looked away, unable to bear meeting Stan’s gaze.  
And that’s when Ford shattered…

  
Stan had rose to his feet and left him…  
Left him after he bid him farewell. After he ripped his heart out and shattered it without mercy. Stan had told him with venom lacing every syllable that he had no such feelings for him. That the very fact Ford had feelings for him were sick and wrong. That he had to leave because everything was so messed up.

  
He left Ford there in the basement, on his knees. Pleading and calling for him to come back. He had cried and sobbed, calling for Stan, calling out for him in lost desperation. Calling until his lungs felt as though they’d burst open and blood would flow up his esophagus, and out his mouth. Overflowing like a fountain, except the water was crimson and it was thick and heavy.

  
Stan had left him all alone with nothing but a broken heart. He called long after Stan had left and once it all began to hurt far too much he’d gone upstairs and began to take out all his pent up sorrows out on his wooden home. Seeing how much destruction he’d done didn’t stir up any emotions, all he felt was emptiness.

  
There was nothing left for him now… no reason for him to stay. Stan had taken his journal and left…

  
There was only one thing left to do now and that was to escape Bill once and for all. He’d be going where no one could follow. Hopefully not even Bill would be able to follow once Ford’s mental link was severed from this plane of existence.

  
He rose to his feet, his entire frame shaking with violent tremors that he thought the world around him was quaking. Ford curled his arms around himself, he felt so cold and so alone. No one in the world wanted him, not even Stanley.

  
His throat tightened as a traitorous noise sounding much like a strangled sob, left him. His eyes wetted with fresh tears that blurred his vision. He rapidly blinked them away, he couldn’t focus on this now.

 

He had to end it…

  
Even if Stan hated him now it didn’t matter…  
It wasn’t as if Ford planned on sticking around either way. But it would have brought him solace to know he would be loved and missed. Yet he wasn’t and the only one who could still possible love him, even if the love he held hadn’t been what he desired, would have brought his soul some peace. Wherever it might be going after all of this.

  
With feet that felt as though they were weighed down with prison chains, Ford pressed onward. There was only one option for him and he was marching towards it. Marching to his swan song, in shambles much like the state of his home.

  
Perhaps, wherever he was going would be better than the world he was born into. Perhaps wherever he was going he could be forgiven… he could be loved. He’d never admit it to anyone and he was having a hell of a time admitting it even to himself… but that’s all he really ever wanted.

  
To be loved and to feel like he belonged. Now the only one who could have possibly loved him in some form hated him. This was the point of no return…

  
His mind drifted to what could have been, he wondered if he had gone sailing with Stan, that maybe things would have been different. Maybe just maybe Stan would have grown to love him in return.

 

To accept his love and embrace it, to hold him close in his protective strong arms. What Ford wouldn’t give for to be held in that embrace right now. Perhaps if he closed his eyes tightly enough and imagined it vividly he would be able to feel it.

  
Ford got to his room and opened up his closet, within that closet there was a ladder and a rope tied around one of the rungs. It had been tied in the form of a noose…

  
A deep breath collected in his lungs, before he released it, he took up the ladder and began to drag his feet across the floor. And then within the blink of his eyes he found himself in his basement, the portal, disabled, loomed over him, the physical manifestation of his mistakes.

  
Ford had made sure to lock the door behind him very securely, he didn’t want anyone to come find his dead body. It would certainly be a gruesome sight to behold, yet would anyone even come looking for him?

  
No… he didn’t believe so. But just in case, he’d taken that precaution.

  
He found a place in the dusty and gloomy basement, soon to be a tomb for a lovesick and blind fool who nearly destroyed the Universe, he opened up the ladder and climbed up. He untied the noose from the rung, and began tying it sturdily around one of the pipes that fed power to the portal.

  
Minutes passed by, and he stared at the noose, as if he had forgotten for a moment what he was doing. Ford closed his eyes tightly as he slipped his head into the tightly fitting noose. He breathed heavily, his whole body shaking. He couldn’t back out now, this is how he’d pay for his sins.

  
So, he tried to focus on something that would soothe him, make it easy for him to do what needed to be done. And in his mind he pictured Stan and him upon a boat, labeled the Stan O’ War II. They were both leaned up against the tail of the boat, side by side, holding one another’s hand. Ford’s hand fit perfectly in Stan’s and Stan’s hand fit perfectly in his.

  
Stan turned to him and smiled lovingly, gazing at him with a soft fondness, he took up his other hand and used it to gently turn Ford’s face to his.

  
_“I love ya, Stanford.”_ The imaginary Stan sounded so genuine, so.. real.

  
And when fantasy Stan pressed his lips to his fantasy lips, Ford could almost feel it on his own lips.

  
Heavy sobs tumbled forth from him, his hands clutching at the noose. He just wanted to be loved, to know that someone would still love him when he left this cruel world who had forsaken him the moment he was born.

 

The world who never had a place in it that he could belong. He didn’t even belong in Stan’s arms anymore…

  
“I love you too, Stanley.”

  
And with that he fell… there was an agonizing and sharp pain that shot up his entire body and then… he couldn’t breathe…

* * *

 

* * *

 

* * *

Outside in the howling snowstorm Stan sat, shivering miserably within his vehicle, staring at the cabin. He had yet to leave because his car became trapped within the snow. And as much as he hated having the windows cracked open, that let in the chill and allowed precious heat to escape, he had to leave them open. Otherwise he’d die from exhaust fumes and he wasn’t looking for death, at least not today.

  
He was far too bitter to just up and croak. He stared blankly at the cabin, but his mind was anything but empty. A whirlwind of thoughts ravaged his mind, they had been all night long. He hadn’t gotten a wink of shut eye. What had happened down in that basement still haunted him.

 

Just what the fuck had happened? Something dark and dangerous was lurking down in that basement, and Ford was down there messing with something he should have left well enough alone. Damn him…damn him and his stupidity that lead him to make him sink as low as he did.

 

Something had taken over Ford last night, whatever the hell they or it had been, it had used him for a sick and twisted game. All while revealing Ford’s dirty little secret to him. And during that moment when Ford confessed, something deep within him snapped.

  
He had blown up at Ford, and his mouth opened up to spew a stream of toxic animosity. It was as if his words were a running faucet that someone neglected to turn off.

 

He just couldn’t stop his vile words, and despite seeing such a desolate and defeated expression upon Ford’s face, which under any other circumstances would kill him inside, he kept going.

 

He didn’t stop, not even when Ford began to tremble, and tears slipped down his face. Then he turned his back on him, leaving him behind, not even looking back when he heard Ford’s heart broken cries for him.

 

He couldn't even explain why he'd done it... he didn't even hate Ford. Didn't think he was disgusting or a freak for it. Memories swirled with his head of simpler times. Memories of them smiling and laughing, memories of them cuddled up together whenever they'd had a nightmare.

 

Or whenever they were sad or lonely and needed each other for solace. Ford always looked so happy in them. He looked as though he were whole... and that he felt he was truly loved.

 

Yet his memory of Ford last night told a far different story. He was so sad... sad broken. He no longer looked whole or loved. He looked resigned to the fact Stan didn't love him. All hope he had that Stan would love him too was gone. 

 

Sitting here and staring at the cabin, in the cruel chill, clutching the journal in his hands tightly, the image of Ford collapsing to the basement floor haunted him. It wouldn’t leave him be… damn it…DAMN IT ALL.

  
He let his head fall against his steering wheel, only to startle himself when his car let out a shrill honk. He jolted back up his back popping loudly and he let out an irate groan, dropping the journal onto the floor of his car.

He didn’t bother to pick it back up…

  
He felt odd.

  
His neck was burning and his entire body felt like dead weight. The burning sensation only intensified around his neck. He did his best to ignore it, whatever was wrong with him probably would end up biting him in the ass later, but he didn’t have the energy to pay it any mind.

  
He sat there, gazing at the pathetic cabin, it was in ruins much like how Stan left Ford.  
Stanley’s heart became as heavy as a stone and It ached, he didn’t know exactly why it did so. Why should he feel any guilt over what happened?

 

He wasn’t the one who was in love with his fucking twin. He wasn’t the one who wanted to kiss his twin…to hold him close, to whisper sweet sappy nothings to him. To be warm in his embrace, to love and be loved in return.

  
No he definitely didn’t want that, just the thought of him returning those words to Ford and kissing him, caused a warmth of discomfort to bubble within his stomach. It was sick, it was twisted, it was so fucking wrong.

  
He didn’t deserve that kind of love. That kind of love wasn’t his to have, why out of anyone did Stanford fall in love with such a fuck up? Why did he fall in love with him?

 

When he could have had anyone else in the woke damn world?

 

But the longer he thought about it and dwelled upon it... what if he did...? What if he did want all of that with Ford? What if he thought, for even a moment, that he deserved to have those things with him? What if he did think he was deserving of love?

 

The pain came back, even worse, and he hissed out lowly. Trying to make sense of it all...

  
He didn’t understand it at all, but he didn’t have time to ponder any further. For his throat began to feel tighter, and tighter and it hurt like a son of a bitch.

 

His breaths were harsh, and heavy and he hunched over the dash. He didn’t understand what was going on. Why was breathing so difficult all of a sudden…?

  
It was as if his windows had closed on him without realizing it, and now he was suffocating. As he leaned over the dash, his jumbled mind gravitated back towards his twin. It was as if he were reliving the memory of last night’s events right then and there.  
He could hear the sobs of his twin echo through his mind as clear as day.

  
_“Stan-Stanley-! Stanley please I…I… don’t leave me I can’t… I’m-! I’m so scared I need you…I….please! Stanley please…please. I’m sorry, but I love you…I love you so much! I love you…please don’t…I love you! Lee... Lee please...”_

 

**The words wouldn’t leave him be!!!**

 

  
**“Stanford!"**

 

Stan jolted up in his seat, almost crushing his skull against the roof of his car. It all made perfect sense now, the tight feeling around his throat, it wasn’t because there was anything wrong with him. This agony was originating from his twin, it was this bizarre connection the had with one another. Ford called it twinstinct.

  
There was something horribly wrong with Stanford.

  
**Fuck… fuck…FUCK!**

 

He shouldn’t have left him alone! No matter how shocking it was to learn that dark truth. He should have stayed there with his twin, help him deal with it. It was obvious Ford had been suffering more ways than one.

  
And what had Stanley done? He’d abandoned him in his darkest hours. When he needed him the most. Which was a cruel irony and he could have laughed if he wasn’t so choked up.

  
He slammed open his car door, and barreled out into the deep snow. He stumbled across the yard and he charged through the front door of the cabin.

 

It nearly knocked the entire door off its hinges. The sound reverberated eerily throughout the cabin. Which resembled a war zone, it was like a damn tornado tossed everything in the cabin about.

  
**“STANFORD!?! STANFORD WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU!?! DAMN IT! ANSWER ME!”**

  
All that answered his was a loud and oppressive silence. Which caused him to shiver, it was then that his mind wandered to the basement. Yes of course! He had to be there. Where else would he be but the place he had left him?

  
Stan turned heel and rushed down the steps, he’d never ran this fast in his entire life. Yet once he got to the elevator, rode it down, and came to the first room just before the large room that held the portal he ran into the locked door.

  
**“DAMN IT! SIXER!”** He pounded his fist furiously against the door. **“OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR!”** Breathing was such an arduous task now. His lungs and chest felt like they were an inferno and yet it also felt as they were dipped in the water of the Arctic.

 

**"STANFORD YOU DENSE MOTHERFUCKER OPEN.THE.DAMN.DOOR!"**

 

He was sweltering and freezing at the same time and he couldn’t make sense of it.  
All he knew was that Stanford was in peril and he had to get to him. So he took a few paces back from the door, and rammed the whole force of his body against it.

 

Again and again, the bangs of his body connecting with the door brought about thunderous echoes. It was as though a thunderstorm had taken over the snowstorm outside.

  
Finally after what seemed like an eternity, the door gave way and broke off of its hinges. He and the door plummeted against the dusty floor, causing him to inhale stale dusty particles.

 

He was sent into a ragged coughing fit, his eyes watering and stinging. He rose to his feet without any hesitation, **“STANFORD WHERE---”** His words curled up and died in his vocals, as through the murky darkness he was met with a blood chilling sight.

  
He had to be dreaming, this had to be a nightmare… this couldn’t be reality…. It just couldn’t be… but it was. And as he beheld the tragic sight before him… it was in that agonizing moment that Stan realized he loved Stanford.

 

Oh god….Oh god…oh god oh god oh god. He loved him… he loved him so much. And now he was…he was. He was---

  
A low, strangled and shallow breath, reached Stan’s panicked state. He froze, not certain if he’d actually heard or imagined that sound. Then it came again and this time he knew it was real.

 

**“STANFORD!”**

* * *

 

* * *

 

* * *

Stanford Pines was floating in a dark and warm abyss. Despite being as dark as the night and as silent as the month of winter, it was peaceful. It was warm and inviting and Ford had never felt so content before.

 

He just wanted to stay in this darkness forevermore…

  
He felt safe… it had been such a long time he had felt such security. He didn’t wish to leave, yes he’d stay right here where he was.

 

There was no sense in him leaving such a wondrous place, it would be illogical for him to leave and go back to the agony he’d been in before.

 

There was nothing left for him in the place that had forsaken him, in the world he left behind.

  
He felt like a kid again, wrapped safely on his mother’s warm embrace, it was as if nothing would ever bring harm to him again. Euphoria was all he knew, he was so happy… so very happy.

 

He’d never felt more content in his entire existence. The joy was intoxicating and he just couldn’t get enough. He wanted more of the feeling…

  
And thus a world of color and life burst forth from the darkness. He found himself upon a boat, the sweet and sickly scent of the air making hid heart flutter with excitement.

 

He could hear his twin’s voice come from besides him and he turned his head to gaze at him.

  
Stanley was babbling off about their adventures and how happy he was to be out here doing this with Ford. And how happy he was to be with Ford…

  
He was truly so very happy.

  
And Ford was happy too… so very happy. So happy he could feel wetness upon his cheeks. Stan reached out to gently brush away his tears with his thumb.

 

He hushed him gently and wrapped his protective arms around him. Ford melted, like an ice cream cone left out in summer, into Stan’s embrace. He was so warm…

  
While Ford was… so cold. When… when had he become so cold, when had he begun to shiver? He cuddled up against Stan, trying to relocate the warmth, yet it had been stripped away from him. He was cold… stars he was so cold.

  
Yet Stan didn’t even seem to realize it. Instead he tilted Ford’s head up so he could kiss him deeply and passionately. The warmth that had been stolen away from Ford returned and he trembled with joy.

 

He relished in each and every kiss Stanley gave him. It was everything he’d ever wanted…and he felt so loved. He felt so loved he could break down into tears and cry the world another ocean with his joy. He never wanted this to end.

  
He never wanted Stan to leave him ever again. His heart was so warm it felt as though it were melting. His chest so full of love it felt heavy and it fluttered with the love Stan had for him. Ford could feel more tears roll down his face.

 

And he opened his mouth to return Stan’s tender words, but before he could do so, Stan’s voice came to him. But when he looked up the voice did not come from Stan, but from far off across the sea behind Stan.

  
**_“Stanford!”_ **

  
Ford tensed up as the words carried from across the ocean on a warm breeze to him.

  
_**“Stanford please!”** _

  
It was then that Ford began to notice that that Stan in his arms was fading away. And his tears of joy morphed into tears of terror and sorrow.

 

No, no, no! Stan couldn’t leave him! Not now! He loved him do much that it hurt. Ford tried to hold onto Stan, desperately pleading with him nit to disappear, to stay with him. That he loved him so much and he needed him… but Stan only faded faster.

  
**_“Stanford, don’t leave me! Don't you fucking dare leave me!”_ **

  
The voice was clearer now. It sounded like Stan’s voice… but what did he mean? What did he mean by his words? Stan was the one that was leaving Ford, not the other way around! He wanted to say that, but he found himself unable to speak.

  
_**“Stanford please! Damn it! Don’t do this! I’m sorry! I’m fucking sorry! I… I never wanted this I…I… Stanford please! Ford! P-Poin-Poindexter! Sixer! C'mon, damn it! Come back! Come back! Please! You can't go...you can't... I can't go with ya-"** _

  
Stanley faded away completely from his arms and Ford let out a cry of dismay as he reached out, swiping his hands around where Stan had been. He sank to his knees and sobbed, yet his sobs were silent. No noise came from him as he hugged himself tightly.

 

 _**“I LOVE YOU STANFORD** _ _**!”** _

  
The entire world around Ford shattered…

* * *

 

* * *

 

* * *

Stanley Pines pulled away from Ford to catch his ragged breath. He didn’t know how long it had been since he had found Ford on the verge of death, hanging from the noose. He’d still been alive, but he’d barely been breathing, the noose strangling the life right out of him.

 

He had failed to hang himself properly...

 

Stan had gotten him down, but he’d stopped breathing when Stan placed him gently down upon the floor, trying to reassure him everything would be alright. Ford had just stared at him, with lifeless eyes, giving him one last rattling breath. He whispered his name right before his breathing ceased.

 

After that Stan began to blow air into Ford’s stilled lungs, and press his hands against his chest, trying to stimulate his heart to pump blood and oxygen back to his brain so he’d breathe again.

 

He didn’t stop trying, not even for a second. If he wasn’t breathing life into his lungs, he was using chest compressions, while he caught his breath. And when he wasn’t doing compressions, his lips were pressed against Ford’s, while he was breathing life down into his oxygen starved lungs.

 

He was a fucking mess, his eyes red with his tears, he was trying not to break down. He didn't know how much longer he could keep going but--

  
He couldn’t give up… he had to try and try again he had to---

  
Just as he was about return to chest compressions, just mere seconds after he pulled his lips away from Ford’s, the most beautiful noise he’d ever heard reached his ears.

  
The sound of shallow gasps and sputters, as Ford’s body jolted back from dormancy, was music to Stan's ears.

  
Stanley quickly, yet gently wrapped his arms around Ford and leaned him against his chest, so that he could breathe easier.

 

“Shhhh shhh…I got ya…I got ya…” Stan whispered as he rubbed soothing circles into Ford’s back. Stan blinked away his tears as he held his twin protectively against him.

  
Ford’s hearing and vision began to return to him, he could see his twin holding him securely in his arms. His words were muffled but soon cleared up just enough he could faintly make out what he was saying.

 

“It’s okay...you’re okay, just breathe Stanford….”

  
Ford coughed raggedly as air filtered through his lungs, they burned with every breath and he felt as if they were on fire. Yet despite this, he couldn’t keep his attention off of Stanley. Stanley was here… his Stanley! He hadn’t left him… he was here. He was.

 

“S-Stan..” Ford choked out with a weak sob, he tried to reach up for him but his entire body felt like lead and he was shaking too much. “S-Stanley my..my Lee…” He was so lost, he thought Stan had vanished… left him forever.

 

It took all the strength he could muster, but his arms finally reached up, and he cupped Stan’s cheeks in his icy hands. “L-Lee…Lee…” His whimpers grew, borderlining sobs.

 

“Shhhh..shhh…” Stan hushed him once again, as he leaned down and pressed a loving and salty kiss to his lips. He pulled away only for a moment to whisper lovingly, “I love you Stanford. I love you so much… I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. I shouldn’t have left… I love you…I love you.” He continued to press kisses against Ford’s lips, over and over. He couldn’t apologize enough or tell him that he loved him enough.

 

Ford’s strength slowly came back to him, though dazed, and not all there, he kissed Stan back. He kissed him like he was drowning. He whimpered whenever Stan had to pull away for air, but his whimpers were quickly silenced as Stan told him he loved him and then brought his lips back to him.

  
They stayed that way, clutching one another, kissing one another for a long time. How long they couldn’t be certain. But it had to have been hours, at the least. The trance only broke when Ford realized he was actually alive, and that Stan was actually really…well real.

  
It was then Ford attempted to push him away, believing that Stan was only pretending for his sake. Acting as though he loved him out of guilt and pity, and that he didn’t want his damn pity.

 

He had snapped and told Stan to leave him there to die. And that he just wanted to die… that’s all he wanted. He didn’t want to live in a world where Stan didn’t love him.

  
Yet Stan insisted, over and over again, that he loved him. He loved him more than life itself, and he held him there, keeping him from escaping and doing something asinine. He kissed away Ford’s stray tears, hushing him, doing whatever he could to soothe him.

 

Through his bullheaded stubbornness he finally got through to Ford.

 

**“DAMN IT, STANFORD! I LOVE YOU!”**

 

Though instant regret followed after his harsh snap when Stan saw Ford flinch and tremble. He lowered his voice immediately, “I’m sorry… shhhh…. I’m sorry Ford. I love you, I love you so much.” He kissed him again, pouring all his love into him. Letting him know that he could love and be loved in return. “I’m so sorry that I made you wait so long, Ford…”

 

Ford clutched him tightly and returned the kiss, desperate to feel all of Stan’s love for him. He was trembling uncontrollably, he could do nothing except return the affectionate gesture.

 

He didn’t trust himself to speak. After the kiss came to an end Ford breathed in and out shakily, as he rested against Stanley. He was so tired… so very tired.

 

But so happy… he was loved.

 

He was loved… his Lee loved him. He loved him. He loved him. Once tears that were of sorrow, became tears of joy. His lips curved up into a trembling smile, and he hid his face against Stan’s chest. Listening to his soothing heart beat…

 

“Stanley…” Ford whispered breathlessly, content and secure. After he was calmed down, he felt like he could finally speak. He’d always felt the most safe in Stan’s arms. Not that he ever admitted that to anyone before, it was so damn embarrassing.

 

He allowed his tired eyelids to close, breathing in Stan’s scent. He smelled of grease, smoke, but also of the beach, of taffy and of a summer breeze. Stan was truly here wasn’t he? And he loved him truly…

 

Ford pulled his head away from Stan’s chest and timidly peeked up at his twin, “Stanley…?”

 

Stan’s eyes locked with Ford’s beautiful eyes, “Yes Stanford?”

 

Ford cupped his cheeks once again and muttered tiredly, yet the joy was obvious in his voice, “I want you…”

 

Stanley blinked looking dumbfounded, he snorted softly and gave him a loving and slightly crooked grin, “What are you talking about Ford? You’ve already got me, I’m right here ain’t I?”

 

“No,” Ford shook his head as best he could, ignoring the pain tingling up his spine, “I want you.” He stated firmly as he gazed deeply into Stan’s eyes.

 

“What do you---?” Stan began but was cut off by Ford whining needily.

 

“I.Want.You!” Ford repeated, this time putting even more emphasize on his words. Damn it he had waited so long for Stan to love him, and to make love to him. He needed him right now, he had wanted all of Stan. He loved him, and everything about him, and he wanted to know every last inch of him.

 

“Oh…ohhh!” Stan sputtered as he went as red as a darker cherry, he let out a nervous laughter, before he shook his head and pressed a short but sweet kiss to Ford’s forehead. “Not today Sixer, not until you’re recovered. I don’t wanna hurt ya…”

 

“But---!”

 

“No buts Sixer, we ain’t doing it until you’re better.” Stan wasn’t going to back down on this. That much was obvious. Of course he wanted it too, God he wanted Ford so fucking bad. He hadn’t had a good fuck in ages, and who better to fuck than someone he actually loved instead of some random one night stand?

 

But he had no intention of ever hurting Ford again. It would have to wait, despite how it may torment them both, until Ford was healed. But then it would make the experience even more worth it in the end. Stan stared down into Ford’s shimmering eyes.

 

“I promise we’ll get there, Ford, but please… I don’t wanna hurt ya, not now, not ever again.”

 

Ford seemed dissatisfied with this answer but relented all the same, “Okay…” but true to Stanford's nature there was always a catch, “but can you…can you stroke me, at least. We don’t have to go all out, but please Stan, I’ve waited so long for you. I want you so much, I need you, I love you Lee.” He pleaded, his eyes hopeful and full of desire. Making them all the more beautiful to Stan.

 

Stanley let out an amused chuckle, rolling his eyes and Ford’s request, but he caved into his request. “Alright alright, ya damn horny virgin, let’s get to a more comfortable place first.”

 

A cry of utter discontent let Ford as his whole face went deep crimson, “How…how did?”

 

“C’mon Ford, shouldn’t be that surprised I know ya ain’t been fucked. You wouldn’t be so damn desperate if you’d been fucked before.”

 

Stan smirked slyly as he gathered Ford up bridal style, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Gonna take real good care of ya Sixer…I’ll be gentle, promise.”

 

Stanford Pines regretted everything...

 

Yet in that moment he felt like nothing could ever hurt him again. Not even Bill himself.

 

He was safe...

 

And he was loved...

 

The issue of Bill could be dealt with another day.

 

But for now, as he found himself lying in bed with Stan, their foreheads pressed together, both of them panting, and moaning, as they stroked one another off… everything was right as rain.

 

Ford had cruelly been broken down into pieces, and then lovingly put back together.

 

He was whole again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ___________________________
> 
> ___________________________
> 
> ___________________________  
> If you loved this chapter and want to see more of my writings don't forget to leave a review. It gives me POWER to write more. 
> 
> Of course you don't have to leave a comment but I always love hearing from you all. Even if you don't leave a review that's fine, cause you can always suggest a oneshot on the first chapter! 
> 
> This oneshot was inspired by another oneshot. This oneshot could be considered a somewhat sequel to that one.
> 
> I hope that the original creator of the oneshot that inspired this one is alright with me drawing inspiration from their oneshot and using my imagination to continue what happened next in my own way.
> 
> If they're not okay with it then this oneshot will be deleted from this collection.
> 
> But hey DON'T DESPAIR even if it does get deleted 
> 
> I have exciting news! I'm about to start up a multi chapter Stan and and Ford slow burn romance fanfic. So stay tuned! Love you all my lovelies! Peace for now - Starla.


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